Hearts Beat Fast
by Rick Rowling
Summary: Germany lost his memory a long time ago. He's forgotten everything from his early life, even his first love. Italy always thought his first love forgot about him. It was in the past for both of them. Prussia has a strange realization that he can't possibly explain. Meanwhile, Germany is being secretive, leading those who care about him to question his loyalties. Major angst.
1. Chapter 1: Colors and Promises

**Chapter One: Colors and Promises**

"Germany! Come try this, Japan and I made it!" Italy grinned at his friend through the open wooden blinds of his office, where he seemed to be on the phone. Ludwig scowled and made an 'in a minute' gesture. Or maybe it was a 'go away, I'm working' gesture. Better to stick around to be sure.

Feliciano couldn't help but try to read Ludwig's lips and expressions in an attempt to eavesdrop from outside of the room. All he could detect was stress, even more than usual; whoever he was talking to wasn't cooperating with what he wanted. _I sure wouldn't want to be them right now… Mr. Germany can be very scary when he's angry! But he shouldn't stress so much. It can't be healthy, worrying all the time like he does. I'm sure these pasta rice balls japan and I made would make him feel better!_ He tried to wave to Germany again but again he was met with the same gesture as before, although now it looked more like 'please don't worry, I'll be done soon', so Italy smiled understandingly and returned to the kitchen.

Kiku looked up as he reentered. "Is he busy?"

"Yeah, but he seemed to imply that he would be ready for lunch soon."

"Okay. I'll finish cleaning up in here, Italy-kun. If we eat outside, perhaps you should go sweep off the veranda." Japan suggested.

"No problem, Japan!" He grinned and strolled out onto the veranda around the comfortably large house the Axis was sharing for the time being, grabbing a push-broom from the eaves of the balcony on the way out. He stretched and skipped along the white-painted wood, pushing the broom in front of him. The cool air whooshed through his thin white shirt as he merrily pushed leaves and debris off the sides of the veranda and then set the table for their lunch. He had just finished when Japan came bustling out with the two trays of food they had prepared together and set them down.

"Ah, good work, Italy-kun. You have prepared a very pleasant venue for us to dine today."

"Thank you! And we both prepared some very yummy food!" Italy beamed and Japan did his own version, a small but warm smile.

"Italy-kun, do you happen to know to whom Germany-san has been speaking on the phone all day?" Japan suddenly asked as they each organized the food and place settings to their liking.

"Oh, I wondered if you knew." Feliciano said in surprise. "He's been shut up in his office since I got up, and when I did stop by he didn't tell me what he was doing. I guess it's pretty important, though, he looked very stressed out when I saw him just now."

"Hmm, yes. Though that is not so strange for Germany-kun." Japan added contemplatively as he knelt down on his pillow eat.

"You're right, but he looked even more annoyed than usual. I hope it's nothing too serious." Feliciano wasn't perturbed; he knew Ludwig was often stressed-out but he was good at handling most of their business himself. He was efficient that way. And while Ludwig was handling the business, he cooked and kept the house clean and did his best to cheer his friend up when he seemed like he was always having a bad day.

"Oh, there you are, Germany-kun." Japan said as Ludwig stepped outside, looking harassed.

"Yes, sorry I was late. I was on the phone all morning." Germany scowled, but not at Italy or Japan. He was looking off into the distance as he sat down, then he seemed to drag himself back to his present location. "Lunch looks good, though."

"We had fun making it, and food will take your mind off your worries for a while!" Germany reluctantly reciprocated Italy's smile and took a bite, his expression returning to a thoughtful frown after he finished chewing.

"Germany-kun," Japan began casually after a moment of silence. "I was wondering, who were you talking to all morning? You were on the phone a long time, and I wasn't aware of a conference or anything today…" Kiku trailed off at Ludwig's expression. Feliciano didn't know what it meant, but he had seen it before. Something wasn't right.

"It was nothing. It wasn't a meeting, just some business with the Allies that I've cleared up."

Kiku furrowed his eyebrows but didn't pursue the subject aloud. However, as Feliciano watched he seemed to see his friends have a silent conversation he couldn't understand. They made eye contact, and Kiku asked a question, and Ludwig brushed him off, and then Kiku rephrased the question and Ludwig sighed silently and glanced meaningfully at Feliciano, like he was saying ' _not in front of him,'_ and Feliciano flashed him an anxious look that meant ' _what are you hiding?!'_ and then Ludwig looked back at Kiku and shrugged like he meant it wasn't important, or he just wasn't going to talk about it anymore. Kiku frowned at him, clearly having a much better idea of what Ludwig had been thinking than Feliciano had. They had an odd means of silent communication that unnerved him. He hated it when people didn't talk, and he especially hated when he knew they were deliberately communicating without including him, or deliberately avoiding a subject when he was nearby.

"Guys, stop it!" Italy cried, unable to bear their discussion across the table. "You know I get nervous when you do that _thing_! Where you talk without really talking and you look at me and I really can't help but think that you're talking about me and not in a good way and also the silence makes me feel really weird and I wish we would just say what we're feeling!" Germany and Japan both jumped in surprise and flushed guiltily.

"Sorry, Italy-kun. I know it makes you uncomfortable." Japan said awkwardly. Germany nodded.

"I'm really sorry, Italy, it's just a force of habit and I've been a little preoccupied today. I know you worry about the things we say when you're not around. I promise we are not conspiring against you, and if something were truly important, we would tell you about it." Germany gazed at Italy seriously as he said the words, and Italy knew he meant them, but he still felt twisting sensations of anxiety in his stomach.

"Well, okay. But if something is worrying you maybe it would make you feel better to tell us."

"No, it's nothing. I've already dealt with it." Germany assured firmly. "We don't need to discuss it any further."

They sat in vaguely uncomfortable silence for a bit, then Kiku broke it. "You said your brother Gilbert is coming over later?" Ludwig's demeanor softened.

"Yes, it's been awhile since we've seen one another. I hope he won't be any imposition to either of you."

"I haven't seen Prussia in a really long time!" Italy mused aloud.

"I didn't know you had met." Germany said in surprise.

"It's been forever, but I sort of knew him when I was living in Austria's house. He was my friend Miss Hungary's friend, sort of."

"Ah… Austria's house..." Ludwig frowned and his gaze returned to the distance. Feliciano felt a sudden strong urge to fill the space that was left with their silence. But for some reason, he didn't feel like speaking all of a sudden. He was lost in memories.

"Are you and your brother very close?" Kiku asked mildly.

"Yes." Ludwig smiled. "He's always been protective of me, although I always thought he was more the one who needed to be protected. Not that Gilbert can't handle himself in a fight, but he is very headstrong." He almost chuckled as he spoke.

"I guess not all brothers are alike." Feliciano laughed. "I know my brother and I sure are different. But we have a lot of similarities too. He's moodier, though."

"I imagine most people are moodier than you, Feliciano-kun." Kiku said with a hint of fondness in his voice. Again they lapsed into silence as they ate.

Feliciano was still vaguely uneasy, but he couldn't pinpoint why. On the surface, everything was perfect between the three of them, or if not perfect at least as it normally would be. Maybe he was overreacting. Maybe he should let his fears die silently for once, but whenever he tried that they just always seemed to germinate. Something always seemed to make him remember a time back when he was blindly trusting, and someone he had cared about had never returned to him. He couldn't forget.

When he looked around, he saw things he really wished he could ignore. But surely whatever he was feeling was irrational. Of course it was. Sometimes phone calls were just phone calls, and sometimes a mission or a meeting was simply that. And people assured him constantly that things would be okay. But unfortunately, he just couldn't trust the things he heard; they were too different from what he saw.

And what he saw was further proof that something wasn't going to be okay. Because he had grown up on empty promises.


	2. Chapter 2: Watching You Stand Alone

**Chapter 2: Watching You Stand Alone**

"So when is Prussia getting here?" Italy asked as Japan began clearing the plates from their lunch.

"Probably in a few hours. I'm going to go prepare his room." Germany stood and pushed in his chair.

"You're leaving already? But we've barely seen you all day!" Italy protested. But he rose and stood by his friend's side, ready to hug him goodbye.

"I know, I'm sorry. It's been a busy morning. But it will only take an hour or so and then when my brother gets here we can all spend some time catching up." Ludwig smiled reassuringly, and Feliciano felt the knot of unease in his stomach start to disperse at the rare sight. He stood on his tiptoes to embrace him and felt a tremor in his chest as Ludwig reciprocated. They lingered for an uncertain moment and then Feliciano broke away with a laugh and threw his arm around Kiku's shoulders, making the poor reserved man start in surprise.

"Come on, Japan! We can go paint in the garden while we wait for Prussia to arrive, you can bring your watercolors and show me how you do that cool thing with the cherry trees!" Kiku reluctantly smiled and nodded. He looked like he wanted to say something, but he turned instead to Ludwig, who was already leaving the veranda. He hesitated for an almost imperceptible moment, then spoke clearly and without a trace of unease.

" _Sayonara,_ Germany-kun."

"Hey, West!" Prussia exclaimed as he caught sight of his brother, before immediately tackling him with a hug and catching him in a headlock. "You're looking as relaxed as ever _,_ _kleiner Bruder._ This is why you need me around, to keep you from having a heart attack!"

"That's far more likely to happen when you're here." Germany said with a laugh as he deftly freed himself. "It's been a long time since someone greeted me like that."

"Yeah, well, you get what's coming to you."

Germany laughed again. "What's that supposed to mean?" Prussia shrugged it off and grinned.

"So how has _mein kleiner Bruder_ been doing? I hear you have some pretty big plans lately."

"Not bad, actually. I see you've met my friends, Italy and Japan."

"Did you say Italy?" Prussia turned to look at the other Axis members. The boy with the bluntly cut black hair must be Japan, whom he had heard about, which meant the other one was… _Italy?_ "Wow, I haven't seen you in centuries! You got so big! But, wait a minute, I thought Italy was a…" _Wasn't Italy a girl?_

"What?" Italy asked.

"Nothing." _He's a man! The last time I saw him he was three feet tall and wearing Elizaveta's hand-me-down dress!_ Prussia shook his head and smirked. "You look different, that's all." _Seriously? Italy was a boy the whole time?_

"Gilbert, you must be tired after traveling here, why don't you come inside and have a drink?" Ludwig offered, picking up Gilbert's two suitcases.

"Yeah, that sounds good. I totally want to tell you about this drama that was happening earlier with Liz and Roderich, it was hilarious!" Gilbert draped his arm over his brother's shoulder and they started walking up through the front garden to the house. "And also get to know these guys a little better, too! Who better to judge the level of their awesomeness than me, right?"

Italy and Japan picked up their drawing supplies and followed Prussia and Germany into the house. Germany set down his suitcases in the vestibule and then immediately took Prussia's coat and hung it up on a coat rack. "Hey, Italy, could you please take Prussia's bag to his room? It's the last one on the right down the hall."

"No problem, Germany!" Italy heaved the suitcases up off the floor and hurried with trembling legs down the hall. "Ugh, these are a bit heavy…"

"I'll help." Japan took one of the suitcases, and with his help Italy managed to carry the luggage down the hall without dropping it.

"So… Wow…" Gilbert murmured as soon as he left the room. "He's changed a lot, hasn't he?"

"Well, I don't know." Ludwig looked confused. "I only met him a while ago. I didn't realize he was so old."  
"Yeah, old enough to have met the awesome me before is what you mean."

"Anyone older than you is too old to take naps." Ludwig huffed. "Actually, if they're your age they're probably old enough."

"Please, I'm awesome. Awesome countries only get more awesome with age."

"Hey, how old am I anyway?" Ludwig asked as Gilbert made himself comfortable the common room, sprawling casually on an armchair by a softly crackling fire. Gilbert paused and scratched his head thoughtfully. He didn't really know, but he tried to think back—back to when he first found him, wounded from a war so long ago. Germany had been nothing, just a remnant of an empire left for dead after a bitter war. Prussia had taken him in and cared for him, adopting him as his own family. Germany had no memory of anything that had happened before then, and Prussia didn't know anything about the person he'd been before either. But in time, he became a new person; his brother.

"I dunno, West. You grew up fast, but I have no idea how old you really are." Gilbert shrugged and dragged his mind away from his ancient-feeling memories. "Hey, you got any beer?"

"Do you realize who you're talking to right now?" Ludwig smirked and started down the hall toward the kitchen. "I'm sure you're tired after your trip here, and I know I could use a pint after the day I've had. I'll get us both some." He disappeared and Gilbert sighed and stretched on the chair, thinking how nice it would be to spend some time with his brother for a change. They used to be so close, but now they were both always so busy. Especially Ludwig. His poor _kleiner bruder_ had a tendency to let his self-induced stress control his life, and it tore Gilbert's heart to watch his brother self-destruct this way. But if he could stay here for a while, he could make sure he wasn't going back down a dark path.

"Here we go." Ludwig returned with two pints of beer and handed one to Gilbert. They clinked mugs and Ludwig sat down in the chair directly across from him. "You wouldn't believe the nonsense I've had to deal with this morning."

"Oh, what's up?"

"I was already dealing with our own obstacles and now the Allies call me up–" He broke off as Italy and Japan reentered the room. "Oh, thanks for doing that. You can have a seat if you want." Prussia noticed Germany didn't offer them any beer; he figured not all people liked it as much as they did. Italy pulled a stool up to Germany's chair and perched on it, leaning against the much larger blond and apparently nuzzling his arm. _Wait a moment… Nuzzling?_ _Is this just how he behaves?_ A surge of confusion and underlying brotherly protectiveness rushed through Gilbert's mind as he realized Ludwig wasn't bothered by the contact. Ludwig wasn't usually so open to physical affection…

"West, you didn't tell me you were dating somebody!" Prussia exclaimed indignantly. " _Mein Gott,_ I'm your awesome older brother, how could you keep this from me?!"

"What?!" Germany's face flushed and he looked utterly bemused. "No, I'm not! What gave you that idea?"

"Oh, come on! You don't have to be embarrassed, I'm happy for you!"

"I don't understand." Germany flusteredly ran a hand through his hair. "Why would you think I was in a relationship?"

"Are you serious?" Prussia gestured at Germany and Italy, demanding an explanation.

"What?" _Wait, is he serious? Did I just totally misinterpret everything that's going on right now?_ "What are you talking about?"

"You know… You… And you…" Prussia faltered. Germany and Italy looked thoroughly confused, and Prussia glanced over at the only other person in the room to see if he saw what was happening, but Japan just glanced back quizzically and nobody else spoke. "I just… I thought…" _Oh no, what else have I been misinterpreting?_ "Never mind…" He said weakly. _WHAT IS GOING ON?_

"Um… So… You said the Allies called you earlier?" Gilbert asked, desperate to change the subject.

"Talk about that in a minute, what were you saying about Ludwig dating somebody? You never told me!" Feliciano grinned and grabbed Ludwig's arm excitedly.

"I-I-I'm not! Gilbert!" Ludwig was blushing bright red, and Gilbert was sure he was too, if

for a slightly different reason.

"Uh, nope, nope, that was wrong, I made a mistake, just now, saying that. Right?" _CAN WE PLEASE CHANGE THE SUBJECT?_

"Feli, I don't know what he's talking about, I'm not-" _Wait, why so quick to contradict? He does protest defensively! Maybe I wasn't totally wrong about them after all!_ Gilbert grinned in spite of his embarrassment and almost pursued the subject, then suddenly thought better of it. _Better not say anything for now, I've only been with them for about five minutes, and maybe it would be better to just shut up about it until I've got some more evidence. Also, maybe I should call Liz later, she'll know what's going on if I tell her what I saw, and she'll totally freak about this-_

"Wait, Germany told you he was speaking with the Allies? What else did he say?" Japan cut into his thoughts and Prussia gratefully leaped into the new subject.

"Yeah, he was telling me a moment ago." Prussia looked over at Germany expectantly, and to his ever-worsening confusion, Germany looked even more uncomfortable with this topic than the last one. _How is a conversation with the Allies worse than who he's dating?_

"Er… Yes. That is true, I had a conversation with Britain this morning, it was mostly business as usual and nothing to worry about."

"That's not the impression I got from what you said…" The two brothers made eye contact and Prussia again got the feeling that maybe it would be better to just stop talking. But he'd already listened to that part of his brain once today. "Well, I guess it's not that important, or you'd still be thinking about it, right? You'd only need to tell your awesome big brother about it if it _was_ important."

"Yes." Germany said, with hesitation that to anyone but Prussia would seem nonexistent.

"Okay then." _Maybe he's hiding this from them, but there's a lot more going on right now than a call from the Allies. And there's definitely something else going on. My poor brother; I'm sure if he'd just trust my awesomeness because I know how to handle any situation and tell me everything immediately this wouldn't be a problem…_ Prussia shrugged disinterestedly and inwardly resolved to get to the bottom of this later. For now though, it would be better to change the subject again, hopefully this time to something that didn't make everyone uncomfortable. _Make him think I've forgotten… There is definitely some weird stuff going on around here. Definitely. I can't be making_ all _of it up…_

"There is absolutely nothing to be concerned about." Germany said affirmatively. There was a five second deafeningly awkward silence. _What is up with us today? This doesn't usually happen… I have totally got to talk to West in private later on. WOULD SOMEBODY OTHER THAN ME PLEASE CHANGE THE SUBJECT RIGHT NOW? HONESTLY, I WOULD DO IT BUT I'M TOO AFRAID TO MAKE IT WORSE._ The silence persisted before an apparently oblivious Italy broke it. Then it was drowned in a sea of words long enough for Prussia to recompose his thoughts as the awkward mood dissipated.

"How's Miss Hungary? She was always so nice to me. How are she and Mister Austria? I remember he would always play the piano whenever I was in his house. I did a lot of cleaning then, too. I didn't like it there at first, but I made friends. I have friends here too. But now we have better food." His blithe chatter finally seemed to rebalance the conversation. Prussia sighed internally in relief.

"She's okay, I hope. I don't really know, I was with her and Rod the other day and things were getting pretty intense. They had a bit of an argument, it's kind of a funny story how it started…" Gilbert scratched his head and chuckled in embarrassment at the memory. Ludwig raised his eyebrows, probably close to guessing exactly what and whom the argument had been concerning.

"Funny, as in you planted fake love letters under his piano and she found them? And then she vowed to have her revenge and it ended up with all of you at war with one another?"

"Oh, come on! When would that ever happen?" Gilbert rolled his eyes, then started giggling. _Actually, planting love letters isn't a bad idea. Mental note: Plant love letters for Liz and Roderich from different people. Leave them anonymous. Wait for them to discover them and watch them think they both wrote them to each other, then when they discover they didn't, watch them obsess over it for weeks without ever knowing it was me._

"Didn't you do that one time?" Ludwig asked, looking perplexed.

"No… I should, though!" Gilbert grinned.

"Uh-oh, now I've gone and given you an idea. I should probably tell them." He chuckled.

"Leave that to me, _bruder._ " Gilbert reclined and propped one ankle up on his knee.

"So, what happened? What did you do to them this time?" Ludwig asked with a sigh.

"Nothing!" Gilbert said defensively. "At least, nothing at first."

"Come on. What was it? I know you're just dying to tell us anyway."

"Okay, well, they sort of found my… totally awesome Diary… And it sort of made them mad at me. And each other." Prussia tried to keep a straight face, but couldn't help a little snicker. Germany sighed deeply and pressed the heel of his hand into his forehead.

"Which one?" He asked, sounding exasperated.

"He has more than one?" Italy giggled.

"He's been keeping them for centuries. He sneaks around people's houses and records all the gossip he comes across and uses it years later to make people uncomfortable. All of them are pretty explicit." Italy giggled and Prussia was struck again with how different he had become, although he did still sound a little effeminate when he laughed… Not that he would mention that.

"It was from a few years ago and I had sort of recorded this argument they were having and I guess this also sort of coincided with one time where Liz and I were sort of dating and also I was sort of in a bunch of wars…"

"You were dating Miss Hungary?" Italy asked in awe.

"Well, for a while, I guess. A little. Sometimes. It's complicated. Anyway, I don't _totally_ remember this but I guess I recorded this conversation Roderich was having with me and then I guess what happened is Liz found the diary and was reading it and apparently when you're dating somebody it's not okay to receive a love confession from somebody else and not tell the person you're dating about it, and also she's kinda pissed that that happened in the first place. I awesomely had both of them like me at the same time, I don't get why that's such a crime but anyway now Liz is mad at Roderich because of that and Roderich is mad at me for recording it and Liz is mad at me for not telling her and even though it happened FOREVER ago and I had forgotten it until she showed me the entry from my private diary which she shouldn't even have been looking through but whatever because she's great and anyway that's why they're mad at me this time." Gilbert had to stop and take several deep breaths to recover from that last sentence.

There was a short pause and then Germany made a strange noise of exasperation, Italy started giggling again and even the blank-faced Japan cracked a smile. "Gilbert, why…" Germany shook his head in awe bordering on dismay. "Why do you do these things? Why can't you just spread gossip and then let it die after a few days like a normal person? Why do you save it all up for centuries?"

"Then I can use it when I need it." He grinned wickedly as he thought of his huge storage room lined with shelves and shelves of his diaries.

"So can other people." Ludwig pointed out.

"Wait, I am confused." Japan interjected mildly. "What is the relationship between Miss Hungary and Mister Austria? How are you involved?"

"Ah… That's kind of a complicated question." Prussia smirked. "They married at one point,"

"They're still married." Germany cut in pointedly.

"Right, yes. They're married, and we're sort of friends... But it's complicated. and we've all sort of dated one another at least once… Sometimes at the same time."

"Wait, all of you? Weird!" Italy giggled. _Yeah, you know what else is weird? Wearing dresses. We all do weird stuff!_

"I see…" Japan said, frowning slightly. "Does one of you ever feel left out of the relationship?" He glanced surreptitiously at the other people in the room.

"Uh, I guess sometimes? I don't know, they've gone days without speaking to me or each other before so…" Prussia shrugged. "I guess love is always going to be difficult, right?" _Kesese, I found a sneaky way to tease West._

"Well, much more so if you make a load of drama for yourself!" Germany expostulated.

"At least we're interesting." Prussia rolled his eyes. "We have stuff to laugh about later." He paused, smiling at a flash of fond memories, then added, "I'm sure you can relate, to it being difficult that is."

"I suppose I can't say." Japan shrugged. "I've never really been in love before…"

"I have!" Italy said brightly. "A long time ago. I was actually in Austria's house at the time."

"Who was it?" Germany asked curiously.

"I think I've told you this before." Italy giggled lightheartedly. "It was this really sweet boy who liked to paint with me and gave me food and we played together and one day he told me he had liked me for a long time and he kissed me, and then he had to go to war… It was really sad, but I gave him a push-broom to remember me by. He promised he would come home soon, but he never did…" Italy sighed. "I wonder if he remembered me."

"I'm sure he did." Germany smiled. "You're very memorable." _They're both totally blushing right now! This is so cute!_

"Thanks." There was a pause. "Have you ever been in love, Germany?" _He hasn't. This is his first time!_ Prussia thought in glee. Then suddenly he realized that Germany wasn't saying no, like he'd expected. _Wait, does that mean he_ has? _WITHOUT TELLING ME?_

"I think I was. Once…" His expression became faraway. "I don't really remember. But there was this beautiful girl I guess I used to know. Before Prussia even found me. She wore this pretty green dress and she was always smiling, and I remember she cleaned a lot, and I think she liked painting… I don't remember much else about her. Just her face. I don't even know her name anymore."

"Wait, you were in love before?!" Prussia almost shrieked. "You never told me about this!"

"You never asked." Germany shrugged.

"I did too! I always ask you if you're interested in anyone, if you're dating anyone, all that stuff!" Prussia said indignantly.

"You never asked me if I had been in love before, specifically." Germany shrugged.

"You little technicality-exploiter…" Prussia shook his head in indignation. _How could he keep_ this _from me all this time? He must have known I would want to know everything he remembered… Wait a second._ There was a murmur of other chatter going on around him, but Prussia was completely frozen. Something had just clicked in his mind. _Wait, what? I don't even know what I'm thinking, I just know it's ridiculous! It makes no sense, the timing might not even be close and the odds of whatever I'm thinking being true are… Ridiculous! Impossible! Just what am I even suggesting? …_

… _Couldn't hurt to check with Liz._


	3. Chapter 3: How Can I

**Chapter 3: How Can I**

Gilbert managed to put all his thoughts from before on hold for the rest of the day, but that evening as he unpacked, they all came rushing back again, demanding attention. But right now Gilbird was also demanding attention, pecking crossly at the bars of his travel cage.

"Sorry, poor _spatz*_." He opened the cage door and Gilbird hopped out, ruffling his yellow feathers in indignation.

"I know, but it was just to keep you safe." He could have sworn Gilbird sighed at him before stretching his wings and flapping up to perch on his shoulder. Gilbert smiled, then winced when Gilbird pecked his ear crossly and flitted away again, landing delicately on a nearby shelf and preening haughtily. It was clear Gilbert must make up for locking him in a cage while they traveled, and one little apology wouldn't do it. "Well, I'm sorry I'm an awesome parent and I care about your safety, but you're free now." He huffed and rubbed his ear. Gilbird continued preening and ignoring him while Gilbert sighed and started unpacking his suitcases. "Fine, be cranky. I guess I'll just have to eat all these delicious bird treats myself, because I have awesome taste." He slumped on his guest bed and popped open the jar of crunchy treats. Gilbird stopped preening and eyed him suspiciously. Gilbert shrugged easily and plucked up one of the clusters of seeds and acted like he was going to eat it. Gilbird cheeped resignedly and glided, seeming willing but reluctant, to his shoulder.

Gilbert smiled and fed him the treat, and Gilbird shuffled joyfully as he nibbled. When he finished, he nuzzled Gilbert's neck and Gilbert knew he was at least partially forgiven. He stroked the little bird's fluffy back and Gilbird chirped in satisfaction before flapping up to roost in Gilbert's silky white hair. Gilbert grinned, resealed the treat container, and put it on the shelf next to Gilbird's travel cage, and then he knelt down carefully (with his back ramrod straight so as not to disturb Gilbird) to fish his address book out of the front pocket of his suitcase. _I've totally got to talk to Liz! I hope she'll speak to me, kesesese… Oh, who are we kidding, if anyone's not going to be speaking to me it'll be Roderich, whether I did something wrong forever ago or not. Prissy Pianopants will probably still be in a huff about it for ages._

He grinned and walked carefully over to the small desktop and sat down to dial Elizaveta's number. Gilbird shifted as he sat down and flicked through the pages until he found Liz's address and started giggling before the call even went through. A moment later Liz picked up.

" _Szia**_. Who is this?" There was a pause as she seemed to be listening down the line, and Gilbert tried to control his laughter, but he didn't seem to be succeeding, because apparently she recognized his laugh. "Oh, Prussia, why are you calling me?" Hungary asked exasperatedly. He erupted into helpless laughter and it took him several seconds to calm down enough to speak.

"Hey Liz, just thought you'd want to hear my awesome voice since we've been apart for so long."

"I saw you yesterday, idiot." _Is that a hint of fondness I'm hearing?_

"Like I said, it's been too long." Hungary snorted.

"Not long enough. Why are you actually calling? Any more secret diaries you want me to see?"

"Actually, if you don't mind, I actually wanted to look something up in one of them later, but I don't have them with me, so I was wondering if maybe you'd-"

"No!" Hungary snapped. "I'm still mad about the last one! And Roderich is furious!"

"Oh, come on, is it really that big a deal? I mean, you both knew I kept them, right?" Prussia held the phone away from his ear to keep Hungary's outburst from spooking Gilbird.

"I knew, but he didn't, and I didn't know there were that many! I mean seriously, don't you have anything better to do?"

"This coming from a country who spent the last world meeting drawing doodles of the other countries connected by lines of hearts and pretended she was taking notes." Liz giggled in spite of her obvious annoyance.

"Shut up, at least I don't go around showing them to everyone."

"You show them to me, and to Roderich, and anyone else if they ask nicely enough. Plus, if I remember correctly, you found my diary… Where was it, again?" There was a pause where they both seemed to be containing laughter.

"...Your nightstand." She mumbled.

"Sorry, my awesome ears can't hear you. Where was it?"

"Under your nightstand."

" _Under my_ nightstand. Not on top of it. Not under _your_ nightstand."

"Between your nightstand and the wall. It was bookmarked." They both burst into laughter, but Hungary stopped first. "You should have told me."

"I forgot! It was from like forever ago! And you guys have been married since then so who cares?" There was a pause, then Hungary sighed.

"Okay. I guess I'm willing to concede that maybe no one person is entirely at fault here." Prussia chuckled in acceptance. "We should still both apologize to Austria, separately." Hungary added.

"I guess. He'll be insufferable until we do."

"Especially you."

"Fine." There was a moment of quiet before Gilbert remembered why he had wanted to call Liz in the first place. "Ooh! Ooh ooh ooh! I totally have to tell you about what's going on over here!"

"What?" He could practically see her sitting up in her chair, playing with her hair excitedly. "How's your cute baby brother?"

"That's what I wanted to tell you about! He's made friends with this guy Japan—he seems cool—and get this: Italy! Didn't Italy used to live with you guys?"

"Oh, Italia, _édesem***!_ He was such a little sweetheart!" He _again! How did I not realize he was a guy?_

"What? You always knew he was a boy?"

"What? Of course I did!" Hungary scoffed. "Wait, did you think he was a girl this whole time?"

"He wore your dresses!" Prussia brushed a hand through his hair, forgetting for a moment that Gilbird was still roosting there and earning himself a rough peck. "Sorry," he muttered, then back into the phone, "But he had such a cute high voice! I guess I just always assumed he was a girl!" Hungary spluttered and sounded like she was convulsing in laughter for several seconds before she regained her breath.

"Since when have you ever been able to tell the difference? You thought I was a guy!" Then she erupted in helpless giggles again. _That's not exactly fair! Didn't I ask? I barely even remember that it was so long ago._

"Seriously, was I the only person who knew this entire time? Roderich didn't know Feliciano was a boy until his voice changed, and we all lived in the same house!" Gilbert laughed, then suddenly remembered the other reason he called Elizaveta in the first place.

"Haha! Oh, Liz, guess what I learned today; I'm so mad!" He waited a moment.

"What?" She sounded a little distracted, but she wouldn't be after she heard this. Gilbert grinned excitedly and pulled his feet up onto his chair. Gilbird, apparently fed up with his constant movement, chirped in annoyance and hopped down to sit on his desk instead and look at him as he leaned back into the chair and started twining the cord of the phone around his finger. He could practically see Liz doing the same thing, miles away. _Maybe everything else has changed a dozen times, but I hope we'll always have this._ Maybe they had crazy arguments and their lives always seemed needlessly complicated, but somehow they had been friends forever, and one sure thing that always resolved tension between them was a good gossip session.

"Ludwig was in love before! And he never told me!" Indignation heightened his voice. "His own awesome big brother, he knew I would have wanted to know!"

"What?!" There was some strange kind of crackling, spluttering noise down the line, and Liz didn't speak for at least half a minute.

"Er, Liz? You okay?"

"That tea was way too hot!" She finally exclaimed. Gilbert bit his lip to keep from laughing.

"Yikes, are you okay? I don't know my own power, I guess my stories are just too awesome."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine, what were you saying about Ludwig being in love? With whom?!"

"I know, right? And he didn't even tell me!" Prussia slapped the desk in indignation, again startling poor Gilbird. He quickly reached out to cup him in his hand and stroked the soft feathers along his back soothingly. He thought he saw Gilbird roll his eyes as he settled into Prussia's hand.

"Well, no kidding! No offense hon, but if he told you it'd be all over Europe within hours." Hungary snickered. "But seriously, who was it?"

Prussia took a deep breath. "I don't know. He said it was from before I found him. Like, how long ago even was that? And he said it was some girl. But after today, I totally think he's crushing on Italy."

"What, for real? Tell me what's going on over there!"  
"Well, I got there and we were having a normal conversation at one point when we were the only people in the room, then as soon as Italy and Japan came in he just stopped talking. Like totally stopped mid-sentence and started talking to them about something different. I think he's really stressed out. But that's not the main point, the main point–oh _mein Gott,_ I really messed up and made it super awkward for a while–I think I embarrassed West and myself pretty bad."

"Wow, it's pretty hard to embarrass you. What did you even do?" Hungary snorted.

"Okay, well from where I was sitting… Okay, so you know how he is about physical contact, right? He's not really into it."

"Not his thing?" She asked.

"Yes, exactly. He's okay when some people do it, but unless he knows them pretty well he's not into it and he just doesn't really do major displays of affection like that very often. So anyway, we're sitting across from each other and then Italy and Japan come in, Japan sits on a chair on the other side of the room, okay, and there's another one I'm expecting Italy to sit in. But he just grabs the stool and pulls it right over to Germany's chair, and curls up on it and starts nuzzling his arm."

"Wait, what?"

"Yeah! And West just accepts it and I swear he was smiling!"

"They're totally dating!" Hungary squeaked in excitement.

"That's what I thought! So I was like, 'You didn't tell me you were seeing somebody', and he's like 'What, no,' and Italy's like 'Wait, what?' and I was like 'Wait, what?' and that's the first moment when I wanted to melt into the floor." Elizaveta exclaimed in laughter.

" _Drágaságom****_ , would it kill you to think before you speak once in awhile?"

"I don't know. Maybe. I haven't really tried it that often. But you do think they're something going on between them, right?"

"Alright, I'm not there in person, so I can't be totally sure, but I definitely think they like each other. Please keep me posted, and try not to meddle!" Elizaveta begged.

"Aw, but it's so much fun!" Gilbert protested.

"At least consult me first when you do. Call me!"

"Okay, when I find the perfect way to bring them together I'll let you know." He suddenly beamed as he had an awesome idea. "Hey, maybe we can draw some inspiration together from my awesome diaries!"

"Are you serious right now? Look, maybe I've forgiven you, but I'm not ready to start looking through them for you." Elizaveta said, sounding genuinely annoyed. Gilbert was thrown.

"Wait, really? I thought for sure you'd already have grabbed the boxes at the door of my basement and built a fort with them." There was an expectant silence, and eventually there was some kind of shuffling noise and then a loud crash down the phone.

"Nuh-uh." She finally said. "I was too mad."

"Liz, what was that crash?" Gilbert asked through a smirk.

"The boxes by the door were too obvious, I wanted something more interesting."

"So… What was the crash?" He grinned.

"One of the boxes from under your stairway. And I didn't build a fort, I built a castle." Gilbert howled in laughter and pulled Gilbird up to his chest.

"Better yet, those are way older. I don't even remember what was in them." He chuckled in anticipation of all the possibilities. "Are there numbers on the sides of those boxes?"

"Umm… Yeah. Are these dates? If so, these boxes are like a thousand years old!"

"I replace the boxes every now and then, but if they're that old the entries are probably written on parchment." Prussia snickered.

"I bet there's a ton of stuff about me and Austria in here. This was sort of an awkward phase between us, wasn't it?" She said amidst a background of rummaging and rustling sounds.

"Oh yeah…" There was a vaguely uncomfortable contemplative silence. Then there was the sound of crinkling pages turning.

"Which one is that one?"

"I dunno, something about me and Austria… Austria, Austria, me, Austria, _woah_ Gil, you did a lot of coverage on his house during this month or so. Aww, here's something about young Italy."

"Really? Read it to me, I don't remember that."

" _Dear Diary, Hungary's living in Austria's house now, to give this next part more context. They have this maid girl–_ Boy, stupid– _and she's really sad all the time. Utilizing my awesome detective skills, I investigated this further and believe it has something to do with the home situation._ Oh, what's that supposed to mean? We were perfectly good parents! Oh wait, there's more here… Oh, poor Italy…" Her voice cracked. "He really loved that boy…"

"What boy?" _What did I write about Italy and some boy hundreds of years ago?_

"Hold on, most people didn't seem to know Italy wasn't a girl… How strange. Ooh..." She broke off as if a sudden odd thought had occurred to her. "I wonder if _he_ knew."

"Who are you talking about?" Gilbert wasn't following.

"Oh. Well, back in the day there was also this other boy living with us, but he went off to war and never came back. Feli never quite got over it, poor thing. I'm pretty sure they liked each other." Prussia gasped in recognition.

"He told me about that! They more than just liked each other, Liz! We were talking today and he said his first love was with this boy in Austria's house, but he went off to war!"

"What? That's so cute, but also really sad. What else did he say?" Hungary asked eagerly.

"Umm, he said he gave him a push-broom when the boy went to war. Oh! Liz, I was wondering, Italy didn't give that much description. Who was this other boy? What did he look like? He never even said his name."

"Oh, shoot. Let me think… Something Empire? Wait, I know what it is… It was… Wait…" _Loading… Any day now, Liz…_ "I'll think of it later, I'm sure. He was pretty shy, sweet kid though. He always dressed in black, and he had blond hair, I think. Blue eyes…" Prussia felt a deep shiver and wondered why. _Why am I thinking about this so much? I don't even know what I'm thinking! I just really really really feel like my awesome brain has something really really important to tell me!_

"Wow, I wonder what happened to him…" Suddenly he was paralyzed as the thoughts that had been tossing and turning in his mind utterly destroyed his former state of detached bemusement. He was sitting bolt upright, not daring to breathe. Gilbird looked at him and cocked his head in alarm.

"Prussia? Hello?" The phone fell from his hand. "Gilbert! Are you there?" Elizaveta sounded perturbed. "What's wrong? Did you hang up by mistake or are you being kidnapped?"

" _Shh! I'm thinking, just give me a second!_ " He hissed.

"Huh? Gil, I can't hear what you're saying."

" _Liz!_ _This is really important. When is that diary from? What is the date on the page you just read?"_ He still barely breathed as he retrieved the phone and barely choked his half-formed thoughts out through his agitation.

"Um, summertime in the early 1700s maybe." _Before I found Germany!_

"When…" He barely give form to his next questions. "When did this boy Italy loved leave to fight a war?"

"Umm… Before then. That was before Austria and I were married…"

"So… He left… Before the 1800s, for sure… So the timeline might be right." He breathed, then his breath caught in his throat at the magnitude of what he was suggesting to himself. "Liz… _mein Gott…_ I should have known it all along…"

"What are you talking about?" She asked, uncomprehending and miles away from where he felt like his world was changing shape before his eyes. "Why did you fall silent so suddenly?"

"I've just realized something rather significant." His hands shook as he exhaled, trying to process his thoughts, though they were racing impossibly fast. "West is older than I thought he was."

"What? Prussia, I don't understand." There was a bit of background rustling he thought was the sound of her turning more pages in his diary.

"Oh… My… Ugh, my head hurts… I can't even say what I'm thinking, it's so crazy." He wasn't even sure it had sunk in yet. Surely he'd be screaming if it had.

"What's wrong?" She was sounding more and more agitated.

"This can't be happening… I just can't believe this…" He shook his head and Gilbird chirped in concern. Then suddenly everything that had clicked into place sank into his heart and an exhilarated, overwhelmingly joyful smile beamed across his face.

"I think I've found my brother's long-lost first love."

* * *

* _spatz- bird_

 _**Szia- hello_

 _***_ _édesem- my sweet, my sweetie_

 _****_ _Drágaságom- my dearest one_


	4. Chapter 4: I Would Find You

**Chapter Four: I Would Find You**

The doorbell buzzed and Prussia jumped. "That'll be my package!" He leaped to his feet and hurried to the door. Germany gave him an odd look as he passed. His brother had been acting bizarrely all day, and for some mysterious reason had a package delivered from his house. He couldn't imagine what was so urgently important that he needed a friend to mail it immediately, yet not significant enough for him to remember to pack it.

"What did you have delivered?" He asked as Prussia answered the door and took a heavy-looking parcel wrapped in brown paper from a courier, flusteredly thanking and tipping him and slamming the door.

Gilbert's pale face flushed with some imperceptible emotion—unreadable, but Ludwig took it as embarrassment—and he shook his head. "Just some books that I really needed." Ludwig frowned in puzzlement.

"But surely you knew you would need them before you left."

"Um, actually I just realized this last night. Elizaveta had them, and she was nice enough to read out the passages I was looking for over the phone and then mail them to me overnight."

"Okay…" He still couldn't comprehend the idea that something that was of no significance to Gilbert yesterday was suddenly his foremost priority today. "Weren't you two in a fight earlier?"

Gilbert shrugged, seeming as though he were fighting to regain control of his emotions. Something definitely seemed amiss with him, but Ludwig had no idea what could possibly have unbalanced him so completely in such a short time. "Well, we made up last night."

"Ah. I suppose that's why there was such raucous laughter coming from your room yesterday evening." Ludwig smiled. At least his brother was happy with one of his friends again, even if the peace was bound to be short-lived.

"Germany!" Ludwig started at the sound of Italy's voice and turned around to greet him as he skipped into the room, but then whipped back around instantly as there was a loud crash and the sound of cursing from Gilbert. He had apparently dropped his package on his foot and then fallen sprawled flat on his back, and he covered his face with his hands and groaned from the floor.

"East, are you alright? What on earth just happened?" He rushed to his brother's side to pull him up by the arm and Gilbert leaned on him heavily. He moaned and shook his head, and Ludwig backed off and let him stand on his own. As soon as he removed his hands from over his eyes he started again and sighed. Then he shrugged and picked up the package he dropped.

"Oops. Ouch. I fell. _Guten tag, Italien._ " He shrugged again and waved casually. Ludwig narrowed his eyes at him.

Beside him, Feliciano piped up reassuringly, "Don't worry, Prussia, I fall all the time. And I drop things too, especially when I get embarrassed or startled or something, and it looks kind of funny but one time I actually kind of hurt myself. Oh, Germany, you didn't greet me! C'mon." He grinned expectantly at him, and Ludwig quelled the butterflies in his stomach as he leaned down so the were on the same level. He lightly kissed Feliciano once on each cheek and stayed on that level so he could receive the action as well. He thought he might grow accustomed to the expressive Italian's ways, but so far he still felt strange about this. He suppressed a shiver as Feliciano kissed him twice in greeting, then stood up and exhaled. Gilbert stared at them both with wide eyes.

"That's something Italians do." He explained awkwardly. "I'm still not used to it."

Prussia bit his lip and then beamed at them both. Then he cocked his head like he had a question. "I don't get it." He set down his package. "Is it a sign of a special bond, or is it just like a handshake?" Germany shrugged and sighed silently in helpless confusion. _I have no idea! He does it all the time but I don't know what it means!_ He did this a lot when he was with his friend, he found. The man never ceased to surprise him, and he felt that however long they worked together he never truly knew what he was thinking. The man was an enigma to him.

Italy didn't offer an explanation of his own. Instead, he nodded at the package. "What's that?" Prussia's face flushed again and he picked it up again.

"Just some books I wanted to look through later. I'll go put them in my room." He clutched it close to his chest and rushed, almost scurried, down the hall to his room. _What could possibly be going on with him today? He's almost never like this._ In fact, he couldn't think of a time when his brother had seemed so preoccupied, even in the most complicated years of his long romantic history.

"I wonder what's in his books that's so important that he needs it today." Italy mused aloud. Germany turned to him, jarred from his thoughts and surprised that his companion had made such a comment when he otherwise didn't seem especially observant.

"I wondered that too, but he didn't seem particularly keen on telling me." His own words surprised him. Since when was his brother secretive? But then he thought back to yesterday and realized he had his share of secrets, too. The thought of having secrets like this from his brother, of all people, the person who loved and understood him like no other, made him feel a pang of remorse.

"Oh well. So, do you have any work to do today?" Italy asked.

"Actually, I don't have any official business to attend to, and our training schedule for the day is empty, so I thought I would clean out my storage room." His mood brightened. The thought of cleaning always soothed him. He didn't know why, but ever since he could remember, cleaning always made him feel inexplicably happy.

"That sounds… Like something you would enjoy doing on a day off." Feliciano remarked.

"It is." Ludwig smiled.

Gilbert reentered the room, looking much more composed for some reason. "Hope my awesome presence didn't interrupt anything important," He smirked, and appeared to have all of his usual swagger neatly readjusted into place. "So, you guys got any plans today?"

"Well, I was going to reorganize some old stuff down in my basement." Ludwig offered.

"Aw, you really know how to relax, little brother." Gilbert rolled his eyes. "I actually haven't got much else to do. Maybe I'll help, it'll be an excuse for us to spend some time together."

"Oh, you don't have to, you're a guest," Ludwig said instantly.

"It's fine, I want to."

"Alright. You can help me clean up a bit and we can catch up some more." They definitely needed some more time to talk.

"Well, I guess you don't need me there if you've got Prussia." Italy jumped at the opportunity to avoid hours of silent methodical work on a beautiful sunny day. "I mean, I do like to spend time with you, but if you don't need the help I'll just draw or something instead." Germany didn't mind, though he did enjoy the man's company. He and Prussia definitely needed some time alone; there was definitely something strange going on between them.

"Sure. Go enjoy yourself." He smiled. "I'll see you later." He resisted flinching as Feliciano jumped to wrap his arms around him, and he gave him a gentle squeeze in return. As they broke apart, he realized his face was warm and probably flushing, and he cleared his throat. Feliciano smiled and then skipped back out of the room. As soon as he was gone, Gilbert's demeanor visibly changed, and he exhaled loudly and leaned against a wall.

" _Bruder,_ is something wrong?" He approached his side.

"No." He shook his head. "I just… I can't explain it. Let's go down to your basement. I'll tell you later." _What? What could he possibly not be able to tell me?_ "I'm okay. Something weird happened last night." Ludwig frowned but didn't push the subject as they fell into step walking outside to the entrance to his storage room. An awkward silence persisted as Ludwig opened the door to let sunlight spill over his dusty shelves and boxes. He grabbed a broom from the side of the door and pushed it methodically across the floor in front of him, tension in his shoulders dissipating and stress melting away in rivulets as he swept. Gilbert stared at him, mouth partially agape, for several seconds.

"What's wrong?" He asked again, irritated with his brother's strange behavior. "Why are you staring at me like that?" Gilbert brushed both of his hands through his silvery hair, looking exasperated with himself.

"I can't explain this! It's—it's ridiculous, that's what it is—this is stupid. Ludwig, we can't keep secrets from each other. I don't know all of what's going on or how this all got so weird so quickly, but I feel like we need to talk about it." Ludwig's eyes widened and he grew agitated as he realized that he must have completely given away everything he was trying to conceal. He ran a hand through his hair and rumpled it in distress. Then he crossed to his brother and sighed, sweeping the unruly silver waves Gilbert had disturbed back into place. Gilbert sighed and brushed Ludwig's blond hair back and straightened his collar. _We're as different as night and day on the surface, but underneath we'll always be brothers._ They broke apart, looking equally penitent.

"You're my brother." Germany said contritely. "I shouldn't keep things from you." He pushed on at his brother's mildly bemused expression. "Things haven't been exactly as secure as I let on. But I didn't want to tell you when there were other people around. Especially since they're my allies."

"What's troubling you?" Prussia asked. "I mean, since I'm such an awesome big brother I got the sense something was wrong, but I couldn't tell what."

"Well, yesterday was a little unusual. I got up in the morning and as soon as I sat down in my office I got a call from Britain. He'd never call me for anything personal because we just don't talk after that last war, and if we wanted to talk business he'd probably just schedule a meeting in person, but he didn't." Germany sighed and started sweeping again to ease his stress. "We talked for a while and he asked if I was alone, then he started saying all kinds of strange things. He was getting quite aggressive. First he threatened me with dark magic and then when I said I was hanging up he said he knew how to weaken me. He just needed to meet with some colleague first. I don't even know what this means, but I told him in stronger words to go away. The whole thing was so strange, and he kept talking to me all morning, and eventually I just got so irritated I shouted at him and hung up. I don't even know how he got my number." He added with a perplexed frown.

"What a jerk! I'd like to go and give him a piece of my mind, talking to you like that." Prussia scowled. "If he wants to threaten you he'd better be ready to contend with me!" Prussia looked very much like he wanted to follow through with his threat, even if Britain had just been making idle threats.

"No, no, I told him off." Germany assured hastily. His brother was strong, but if he fought alone against Britain there was no way he could guarantee his safety. "He's just making threats, he won't follow through with them. Plus, the things he was threatening wouldn't bother me anyway. It was so weird though, he just called me for no apparent reason and talked for ages."

"What a freak. Thanks for telling me, anyway. Even though you're older and stronger now, I still want to know when these things happen!" Gilbert put his arm around his shoulder in a minimal-contact brotherly hug.

"I know." He smiled and leaned into the hug for a moment before he broke away and turned to face him as he realized something.

"Wait, did you have something you wanted to tell me?" He asked.

"Oh. No. Well, maybe, but I don't even know where to start. It's probably the last thing you need on your mind." Gilbert started taking some boxes down from the shelves and laying them on a table in the center of the room. "I had this crazy thought yesterday and then I called Liz, and instead of telling me I was an idiot she backed me up. And then tonight I'm going to call Roderich about it, and if he agrees…" He sighed, and Ludwig found himself losing his patience.

"Okay, stop right there. What are you even talking about?" Gilbert started guiltily.

"Um… How do I put this…" He rubbed his forehead with his hand in exasperation. "I think I might have learned something about your past." Ludwig was shocked, and also intrigued, and he opened his mouth to ask what his brother had learned. Before he could speak, Gilbert hastily cut him off. "It's probably wrong though, just a random guess really." _His constant self-affirmation has made him bad at making things appear less significant than they really are._

"So… You're not going to tell me until you figure it out." Ludwig narrowed his eyes. "You know, this kind of does affect me, too."

"I know, I just don't want to make a mistake with this. It could be a pretty big deal." _Seriously? Then tell me!_ He stifled a sigh as Gilbert started looking through the boxes. "Woah, when's this from?" He picked up some old dark fabric that Ludwig didn't recognize.

"I have no idea." He took it from him and watched the wrinkled folds fall through his hands. "What is this? A cloak?" He examined it from a few different angles, and noticed there was a huge gash through it. "Was this mine?" He couldn't believe he had ever worn that. It looked far too small to fit over his shoulders. He walked over to where the sun spilled into the room and held the black cloth up to the light. There were also darker stains around the edges of the gash, and he suddenly felt a bit sick. _Is that my blood?_

"Do you remember this?" He asked, turning to his brother. As he did, he was shocked to see the look on his pale face—he looked like he was both dismayed and terrified by some appalling memory.

"I do." Prussia croaked. "Of course I do."

"How old is it?"

"Over a century. It was what you were wearing that night, the night that I found you." Prussia's expression was of awe, and almost of nostalgia as he came over and ran the shadowy cloth through his hands. "That night… We were both so lucky. When I found you… I never walked that way. Not until that night. And then I saw you there… You were on the verge of death." His bright eyes were distant. "But I carried you home. And I cared for you for weeks… And when you woke up, you didn't even know your name."

"I know…" Germany barely recalled the first few days after Prussia had rescued him, but he had heard the story many times. "Why have I kept this for so long?" He asked, not really expecting an answer. "I haven't worn it since then, and I don't even know why I still have it." He stroked the fabric and felt a shiver of a distant memory pass through his being. _I wish I knew who I was. Not now, but then..._ He stared at the cloak blankly, then, wordlessly, he slipped it over his shoulders. It barely covered them and only just reached his waist when it should have brushed against his ankles. _How do I know that?_ The gash in the garment fell over his left side, and with a shudder he remembered that scar that had always marked his waist just underneath it. He did a brief turn in the cloak and watched it swish behind him, again feeling flickers of memory that he couldn't claim. Then he shrugged it off and put it back on the table.

Prussia kept searching through the box. "Maybe we should take some of these things upstairs to be cleaned." He extracted something else and brushed away some dust. "Woah. What's this?" He held up the box. "There's a panel or something underneath this shield." Germany leaned down to look. On the back of his old shield, there was a small slot with an elaborate number lock.

"What?" He dragged it into the light. "This is very strange. Why would this be here?" It looked like he had to enter a four-digit code of numbers to open a compartment underneath the arm grip. "What could I need to open this for?"

"Is it a lock?" Prussia came over to examine it with him and they laid it on the floor where the most light possible spilled over it.

"I guess so." They both crouched low to stare at it intently.

"So… You need to enter the code… And then… This opens?" Prussia pointed at a hinge on the side of the compartment. "Has this always been here?"

"I don't know, it must have because I've had this thing since before I can remember, but I guess I never noticed it before…" He frowned. "I wonder what's inside… It doesn't look big enough to fit anything much." _Did I put this here?_

"Do you know the combination?" Prussia asked half-hopefully. Germany shook his head.

"Even if I set this after you found me, I doubt I would remember."

"Let's take this upstairs where there's a table with light." Prussia said after a minute. Germany nodded, and they exited the storage room, shutting the outside door and leaving the rest of the boxes forgotten.


	5. Chapter 5: Time Has Brought

**Chapter Five: Time Has Brought**

Prussia pursed his lips and stared at the number lock in deep thought. He was mostly trying to blank out all the other thoughts that were addling his brain. He was still mentally kicking himself for being so un-awesome earlier and giving such a terrible excuse to his brother for his behavior. If they hadn't found the shield, Germany would probably still be interrogating him, and he honestly would have deserved it. But for now they were both engrossed, trying to think of numbers to use to open the panel. "What could it be?" Ludwig murmured.

"Try '1234'." Gilbert said.

"Are you serious right now?" Ludwig said without turning his head. They were sitting together on Ludwig's sofa in his living room with the shield directly in front of them on the coffee table.

"Just do it." Gilbert rolled his eyes. _It would be so cool if that was actually the combination, heh._

"Fine." Ludwig clicked the numbers into place, and as they both expected, nothing happened.

"Aw, that would have been awesome!" Gilbert grinned. "Oh well. What else is there?"

"Like, ten thousand possible combinations."

"Wait, really? Was that, like, a guess or did you just do that math?"

"It's simple multiplication. Ten to the fourth power is 10000." Ludwig said, slipping on his reading glasses and doing a calculation on a pocket notepad to confirm it. Gilbert looked over and tried to do the math in his own head.

"Are you sure that's right?" He asked after a moment.

" _Ja._ " Ludwig waited for him to finish his calculation and raised his eyebrows and smirked in satisfaction as Gilbert breathed an enlightened ' _Oh…'_

"Ah, yep. That was fast, though." He returned his attention to the lock. "You don't remember this at all, right?"

" _Nein._ " Ludwig sighed. "If you can't think of anything, we could just start going through all the possible combinations."

"Or we could just put in a bunch of random ones." Prussia grabbed the shield and started clicking numbers into place.

"Wait, let me write them down so we don't repeat them a hundred times!"

Germany huffed and started scrawling the combinations on his notepad. "Try my birth year."

"When's that?"  
"Idiot." Germany took the shield.

"It's a fair question!" Prussia protested. "I don't know your actual age, only the year I found you and the year you became the German Empire, but neither of us know your original birth year."

"Fine, try _the year I became the German Empire._ " He said, rolling his eyes.

"Don't you take that tone with your awesome big brother." Prussia crossed his arms.

"Sorry."

"Is that sarcasm I'm detecting?"

" _Ja._ I get it from you." Germany stared at the shield again and frowned after he entered a few ideas he had on the spot and scribbled them down on his pad. "That makes sense, because if I don't remember it I probably set it before I became the German Empire." He muttered. "Okay, those are all the ideas I had. Do you have any more?"

" _Nein_ …" They sat back, neither really wanting to start trying every possible combination. "Let's try a few more basic ones. 4321." He said, entering the code.

"You can't just do that." Ludwig said.

"What? What am I doing?" Gilbert snapped in exasperation.

"You just jumped from zero to four!" They stared at each other in mutual disgusted irritation. Then Gilbert sighed. He knew he couldn't beat Ludwig's number logic by sheer force of will.

"Fine! 0000. Nope." He turned one more number. "0001. Nope." Ludwig recorded all of their guesses for several minutes before Gilbert finally flopped back onto the couch in utter boredom. "I can't do this anymore!" Ludwig sighed and pushed his reading glasses up in an expression of agreement. Just then, Feliciano twirled into the room with a feather duster, singing cheerfully in Italian. Both brothers started and looked away flusteredly, if for entirely different reasons. _He's really the same as he always was deep down, isn't he?_

" _Ciao, amici!_ What are you doing there?" He waltzed over and bent down to look at the shield. Ludwig stretched and blinked.

"Well, I was cleaning out my storage room and I found this in a box of my really old personal effects." He gestured at the shield. "And right there…" He pointed at the panel. "Is a four-number combination lock. But I have no idea what it unlocks or what the combination is. We're just trying every possible combination." Gilbert pretended to gag and Feliciano covered his mouth before a giggle escaped.

"Wow, that sounds really really tedious. I remember this one time when I forgot the combination for the lock on my bike, I tried to unlock it for like three hours until I called my brother sobbing that I couldn't open the lock and he yelled at me and then he told me the combination and I felt pretty silly afterwards because I set it on purpose to be one I would remember but I forgot it anyway. Then I finally opened it and I was able to ride to the grocery store to buy pasta! Except on the way there I accidentally rode through a hole in the road and then I crashed into a tree and that really hurt a lot."

"Didn't that happen last week?" Ludwig asked after Feliciano seemed to be finished talking.

"Yeah, I still have the band-aids from when I hit the tree. But then you found me on your way home from town and helped me back, and you even went back and bought the pasta for me!" Feliciano beamed. "That was really really nice of you, Ludwig. Thanks again for doing that." Ludwig blushed.

"Don't mention it." He cleared his throat. "I knew you really wanted to cook that night." _They are so sweet!_

"Hey, do you think I could try a few combinations if you're taking a break?" Italy asked hopefully.

Prussia looked at Germany, who shrugged. "Might as well." Italy carefully took the shield from Prussia and examined the front side before he even looked at the panel.

"Woah, this really got messed up, huh? I hope you weren't using it when this happened. I hate to think of you getting hurt." He glanced at Germany anxiously and then returned his attention to the lock. "Hmm…" Italy pondered for a few seconds before shrugging and entering a few numbers. A moment later there was a low, grinding, rusty-metal scrape.

Ludwig and Gilbert looked at each other in awe. _Did it ever do that before?_ Feliciano stared hard at the lock, then tapped it twice. It sprang apart instantly and the panel swung open. "Hey, I did it!" He grinned excitedly. Ludwig's jaw actually dropped, and Gilbert thought his might have too. _How could he possibly have guessed the combination? Was he just lucky? How did he do that?!_

"Italy, how did you do that?" Germany echoed Prussia's own thoughts and took the shield to examine the lock excitedly. "What combination did you use?"

"I don't know!" Italy shrugged with modest smile. "I just put in the first number that popped into my head."

"What was it?" Prussia snapped out of his shocked daze and stood up to look at the combination.

"The first thing I could think of." Italy shrugged. "1861, it's the year I was unified."

"Oh yeah, that's right. Weird coincidence that that was the combination." Germany said.

"Yeah. Hey, did you maybe know when you would be unified… Before it happened?" Prussia said as casually as he could as his mind started racing once again. Germany gave him an odd look and Prussia tried to ignore it. He knew it was a strange question, he didn't need to be looked at that way. He was aware of how weird he was acting.

"Oh. Well, yeah, I used to talk about it with my boyfriend. We had a joking pact to form a union that year too, if we were still together. He actually wanted us to unify a long time before that, but I said no." His face clouded, and Prussia felt a squirm of guilt for causing it. _I feel bad for bringing this stuff up so much, it's obviously a sensitive subject for him, but I really have to know!_

"Wow. You were really serious with him, weren't you?" Germany asked, looking up.

"Well, I guess so. I really thought he loved me." Italy shrugged, pushing on and smiling again. _Poor Italy… He never got over that boy._ "Anyway, what's in the thing? I bet it's cool!"

"Yeah, what's in it?" Prussia leaned over Germany's shoulder.

"Dust. Rust. Wait a second…" He reached into the compartment and pulled out a tiny chunk of metal with an intriguing glowing patina.

"What's that?" Prussia peered closer. It was an old, tarnished skeleton key.

"I don't know! I mean, obviously, it's a key, but what does it open? Why would I lock a key in my shield? What is it even for?" Germany ran a hand through his hair in exasperated confusion.

"I don't know." Italy shrugged. "Why'd you lock up a key? I mean, it seems kind of counter-intuitive when you think about it, you now, almost ironic, locking up a key…" He giggled.

"Yeah, I guess so." Germany half-smiled. "I can't believe I did this, if it was even me who did this. This is going to drive me crazy until I figure out what this thing opens." He sighed. " _Why_ did I do this?"

"Hey, you know what this sort of looks like?" Feliciano said, examining the key.

"What?" Ludwig asked.

"Sorta like one of those keys to those hope chest things, you know what I'm talking about?" Feliciano enthused. "They were pretty popular a while ago, I had one, my brother had one, and I think Elizaveta had one too. They were really useful too, I put all my stuff in it."

"Oh yeah!" Gilbert exclaimed in recognition. "I had one of those! I kept my current awesome diaries in it before I had too many and then I just built shelves for them in the basement. I wonder what I did with that thing…" He tried to think back to the last time he saw it. "Wow, no idea. So, do you really think that's what this key opens?" Gilbert peered at the key again.

"I dunno, that's just the first thing that popped into my head, you know how it is when you look at something and just think, 'Oh yeah, that reminds me of something', that's what happened." He shrugged and Gilbert noticed again how much more expressive he seemed to be than he and Ludwig were. His constant hand gestures and fluctuating run-on sentences made him seem much more animated. "Did you ever have one of those things, Ludwig? You know what I'm talking about?" Feliciano inquired.

"Yeah, I think I did…" He frowned, his eyes glazing over as if he were clinging to a far too distant memory. "Maybe that's what this key was for… But why would I go to such trouble to hide it?"

"I dunno, maybe you were hiding something really special." Italy smiled. "Any idea what it could be?" Germany shook his head.

"I don't even know if it still exists. But I guess it was important." He sighed, shrugged, and put the key down on the coffee table next to the shield. They caught the light spilling through the open patio door and glinted dull silver, basking once again in the light of day. After a moment's silence, Prussia stretched to alleviate a crick in his neck, and as he did so he extended his legs and accidentally bumped them against the coffee table.

"Whoopsie." He leaned forward to correct the misaligned furniture before it upset his brother. "Can't have that uneven." As he did so he nudged the shield into the light at a different angle and suddenly, something etched faintly under a layer of ancient grime caught his eye. "Woah… Hey, I think there's something written here!"

"What?" Germany leaned down next to him and readjusted his reading glasses again, then squinted and took out a pocket square.

"Really?" Prussia muttered. "C'mon man, nobody uses those."

"I don't see you prepared to clean anything at any time like I can. Laugh if you want, but…" He rubbed away at the tarnished metal until a design gleamed clearly in the sun. "Wait, what is this? What language is that even?" They all stared at the design. It was some kind of pictogram, with a long stick and a rectangle, but beneath it there was an even more faded inscription in a language Prussia didn't speak. It was written in roman characters, but he had no idea what it said.

" _Non dimenticarmi mai._ " Germany murmured. Italy gasped in recognition.

"Never forget me!" He exclaimed. "That's what it says!" Germany and Prussia both gaped at him, gobsmacked.

"How do you know?" Germany nearly demanded. "What language is this?"

"Italian, silly!" Feliciano laughed. "You ought to know better, haven't I been teaching you? Or did you forget to pay attention? I think I know my own language." He giggled again. "It's weird though! Why did you put it there? What are you not supposed to forget? And why was it in Italian? Surely German or English or any other language you spoke before you met me would have made more sense."

"I… I have no idea…" Ludwig suddenly sounded almost tortured. "I think it was important…" Gilbert patted him gently on the shoulder in concern.

"You all right?" Ludwig squeezed his eyes shut. "Man, glad you didn't do this cleaning alone. This is some pretty crazy old stuff we found here." Gilbert said in wonder. "And it feels like it's just beginning!"

"But I don't even know what to do next." Germany groaned. "I wish I remembered this better."

"Oh, hey, Germany," Italy said, sounding distressed. "Don't worry, it doesn't matter what you remember. We can figure out what this means together." He hopped up onto the couch and curled up next to Germany, wrapping his arm around his shoulder and holding his hand. Prussia fought back a gasp again and tried not to stare, but couldn't help noticing the pink tinge that came to his brother's face. Yet he didn't flinch away or let go of the other man's hand.

"Let's see. What's something you would try very hard not to forget?" He asked, dragging the shield up onto his lap. Germany frowned in thought.

"The combination to an important lock." Gilbert stifled a laugh.

"Besides that." Feliciano rolled his eyes playfully. _They seem so flirtatious when they're together, but is Feliciano this way with everyone?_

"Well, I forgot it anyway." Ludwig sighed.

"You know what they say." Feliciano shrugged. "If you can't remember it, it probably wasn't that important." He paused. "Yeah, that's a lie. But you don't have to remember it to _know_ it. If you did, most students would fail out of school. Let's just look more closely." He dragged the shield across both of their laps. "What is this a picture of?"

"Um, a line and a rectangle." Ludwig said.

"That's what it's made of, not what it's showing us." Feliciano explained. "In a painting, there are lines and shapes, but that's just what the artist used to make the picture. You have to look at the picture, not just the lines and shapes."

Ludwig looked nonplussed. "I only see a line and a rectangle."

"Well…" Feliciano seemed to ponder the faded etching for a moment. "Maybe they're related to the caption. Never forget me…" Gilbert's spine tingled as he watched his friends. He had to say something, he just didn't know what he was even trying to say yet. This was all so convoluted and mysterious! Yesterday he had no idea where his brother came from, and today he thought he might have reunited with his memory-lost love that Gilbert didn't even know existed until a day ago. And he still had to look through his diaries, and Liz said she was still searching in various basements, but he really had no idea what he was thinking yet.

"H-hey, do you think maybe this has something to do with something you wanted to remember in your past?" Prussia stammered.

Germany looked at him in bemusement. "Well, I thought that was obvious. I just don't have any idea what it is."

"Are you sure you don't have… _any_ idea?" Prussia ventured. Germany narrowed his eyes, and suddenly they seemed to be having a silent conversation without words or gestures.

 _I know you know._

 _No, I don't!_

 _Maybe you don't know what you know, but you know you know and I know that you know something that you don't want me to know before you know for sure but I think I should know because it's about me and I don't even know what you know, but I know you know or you think you know something really big that I really should know but you won't tell me because for whatever reason you don't want me to know._

 _What?_

 _What?_ Feliciano broke in. They both jumped.

 _How did he do that? Can he hear us?_

 _No, at least, I don't think so, but he knows we're talking! Stop it, it scares him when people communicate without talking or moving._

 _How are we even doing this?  
I don't know, brotherly intuition or something, but please just stop before he asks us to himself. _

_Why does it bother him so much?_

"Guys, I'm pretty good at reading body language and facial expression, but you aren't giving me anything to work with here and it's freaking me out. And don't tell me you're not doing anything because I can always tell when Germany's talking to somebody else silently. He never moves except for his eyes and shoulders and it's really weird when I can't understand what you're saying, and I always think people are talking about me when you do that which makes me really nervous because when people talk about me behind my back that's usually pretty bad for me. I don't mind if you talk silently as long as you include me in the conversation, but this just makes me a little paranoid and that's not good because a little turns into a lot and I'd really prefer that we just all talked out loud. And I know it's a force of habit but could you maybe just not do it around me because it makes me uncomfortable?"

Germany flushed so guiltily it made Prussia wince. _Poor boy, you don't have to make it so obvious we were talking about him!_

 _I wasn't! I was talking about this!_ His eyes flicked to the shield then back again. _He's nervous enough as it is because… I don't even know, but let's just be a little more considerate, okay?_

 _You're the one who's still having this conversation!_

 _You started it!_

"Stop!" Italy finally cried. "Just talk out loud, I'm right here!" They glared daggers at each other before Germany turned to Italy and took him gently by the hand. _WOAH, WHAT? HE DOES NOT DO THAT. SINCE WHEN DOES MY BROTHER DO THAT?_

"I'm sorry, I promise we weren't saying anything bad. I just do it without thinking, you know how you talk with your hands. I wish you'd be a bit more trusting." _Uh-oh._ Prussia had a few awesome gifts. One was an ability to speak to birds. Another was his legendary battle skill. But one of the most useful ones was his ability to always sense ahead of time when a fight was about to happen. He could feel it in his bones, maybe because he'd caused so many, but he just automatically knew what exactly would push someone to a limit. He didn't know why or exactly how, but he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt, Italy had been pushed to a limit.

"I trust you more than almost anyone." Prussia held his breath. Even though he fed on drama, he suddenly wanted to leave the room. "I just get anxious really easily, and a lot of things today and yesterday are really making me anxious right now. And I know you don't want me to worry, but that actually just makes me worry more, so I'd really prefer it if you just told me everything. Like who's calling you for hours at a time." Italy's voice was even-toned and sounded almost hollow. His face was blank, and his hands were still. It was disturbing to see the sudden change in his personality. _Uh-oh, something's definitely wrong._

"It's not important who calls me. If it were important, I would tell you and Japan." Germany said coolly. _No, no, Bro… Big mistake.. Just tell him what's going on!_  
"Well, if it's not important, there's no reason you can't tell me." Italy's voice was also cool, and it settled unnaturally around the suddenly-silent room.

"That's true. But there's a lot going on, I don't remember to tell you everything."

"THERE'RE A LOT OF THINGS YOU DON'T REMEMBER!"


	6. Chapter 6: Your Heart

**Chapter 6: Your Heart**

There was a shocked silence just long enough for Gilbert to apparently realize what he had done. He had just blurted out something completely random that nobody else had understood, not to mention extremely loud and right in the middle of a uniquely charged almost-argument, and was apparently realizing this was a mistake only in hindsight. They had one moment of pure tangible regret crystallize before them all until Ludwig, seeming utterly fed up, broke the silence. "Gilbert, _what the fuck_ ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?"

"I DON'T KNOW!" Gilbert cried, looking halfway between horrified and blindly uncomprehending of his own actions.

"YOU'VE BEEN SAYING THAT ALL DAY! JUST TELL ME WHAT'S GOING ON!"  
"I DON'T KNOW! I SWEAR I DON'T KNOW! I DON'T KNOW WHAT'S GOING ON OR WHAT I'M EVEN TALKING ABOUT, I DON'T KNOW ANYTHING!"

"STOP SAYING 'I DON'T KNOW'!"

"YOU'RE BOTH ACTING CRAZY!" Feliciano finally lost all control of his emotions. "I don't know what's happening today, I don't know what's going on with either of you or if I need to worry or not, but I just can't handle it right now. I'm going to go stay with my brother, I haven't visited in awhile anyway. I'll be back in the morning for training." Feliciano crossed his fingers behind his back.

"Feliciano, I'm sorry! Please don't feel like you can't stay here." Ludwig elbowed Gilbert pointedly.

"Oh, yeah, sorry, Feli." Gilbert coughed. "I really didn't mean to upset you." Feliciano sighed and forced a smile.

"It's fine, I know you didn't mean any of this. I'm just a little confused right now."

"I think we all are." Prussia agreed.

"So I'm just going to go sleep over at my brother's and then in the morning I'll come back and everything will be back to normal again." He really smiled that time, and gave them each a hug. "I think you two need to talk. I'll see you tomorrow." He kissed Ludwig on each cheek and scurried off to his room to pack his overnight bag. He needed to be with someone who understood him really well right now, someone who wouldn't mind his venting. And even if he was surly, defensive, and foul-mouthed, Lovino was the perfect person.

 _It's been forever since I stayed with my brother!_ Feliciano thought as he swept a few clothes and his toothbrush into his bag. _Uh-oh, I hope he's not busy tonight. Maybe I should have called first._ He picked up the phone on his desk and dialed his brother's house. _I'll just make sure he's expecting me._ The phone rang three times before Lovino picked up.

"What?" A disgruntled voice snapped in greeting. _Oh, he's in a good mood._

"It's Feli."

"What do you want?"

"Nice to talk to you too." Feliciano rolled his eyes. "How are you?"

"Fine, what's up? Been awhile since I've seen you. You're not too busy with your potato bastard boyfriend to talk to me?" _What a jealous little baby!_ Feliciano huffed in indignation.

"Of course not, you're so petty sometimes, honestly Romano… And he's not my boyfriend, we're just allies." He sighed. "Hey, are you doing anything tonight?"

"Do you wanna take me on a double date with your potato-loving boyfriend and some random guy because if so-"

"No, would you just shut up for once and let me talk to you? If you didn't mind and you weren't busy, I was wondering if maybe I could spend the night at your place." He sighed dramatically. "But if you're not going to listen to me at all I might as well stay here."

"Wait, Feli!" Lovino interjected. "You'll be alone, right?"

"What do you think? Of course I'll be alone, it'll just be us. I really wanna hang out with you." Lovino must have picked up on his tone of voice, which wasn't surprising; he hadn't been trying to disguise it. He didn't think he knew how to anyway.

"Feli, you sound upset, is something wrong?"

"No. I mean, I don't know. Some weird stuff's been happening lately and I just don't feel right today, I mean nothing's actually wrong but Ludwig's brother came over and now they're both acting weird and I just got in a fight with Ludwig if you could even call it a fight and now I'm just so confused and this morning I was fine but now I just feel off, you know? Anyway, are you free?" He waited a beat.

"Of course I'm free. Come over, I'm just starting dinner. You can sleep over and we'll talk."

Feliciano almost laughed in relief. "Oh, thank you, I'll come help you in a few minutes, it'll take me about half an hour to get there. You're sure you don't mind me spending the night?"

"Of course I don't mind, I'll see you in half an hour. Oh, actually I'm out of pasta."

"You're WHAT?" Feliciano shrieked in alarm, before he immediately realized his brother was teasing him. "That's not funny, Romano."

"You're right, pasta is no laughing matter. See you soon. _Ciao, fratello._ " Lovino hung up. Feliciano took a deep breath and slung his bag over his shoulder. Nothing was wrong. He would be fine. He just needed a night away to think. He couldn't stop telling himself that.

Lovino swore he was going to hit someone. It might just be the next person he saw, which was inconvenient because that would probably be his brother. He hadn't been having the best day. And although this didn't seem to be unusual for him, today was especially bad, because after not speaking to his brother at all for almost two months he suddenly got a distraught phone call asking him to stay over. No explanation of what was going on or why he was so upset, just expecting him to give him a room and ask questions later. Not that it was that much of an inconvenience, but he was still annoyed at not being told anything.

He thought he knew why Feliciano was so upset. No, he knew it. He knew it was because of that German bastard who was out to brainwash him and then break his heart. He thought nobody knew what he was planning, but Lovino knew. Lovino had known since they first met. And his brother, following that man around like an idiotic little puppy; it made him sick to think about. He was as gullible as he ever was, even after centuries of nursing heartbreak. Lovino had seen that once, and he desperately wanted to avoid ever seeing it again, but it seemed inevitable. His warnings had done nothing, Feliciano was still as cavalier as ever about handing his heart away, and Lovino would have to pick up the pieces when it shattered. Again.

And would he be grateful?

No.

Or _nein_ , as he'd probably say now, because he spent so much time around the stupid potato bastard!

It was all he could do to keep from hurling his fist into the wall. Instead he punched a throw pillow several times until he ran out of breath, then flopped down on the couch in disgust with everything and everyone. And that was how he was when Feliciano rang the doorbell twenty minutes later.

Romano forced himself to get up and reel in his wayward temper for a moment. He needed to see firsthand what kind of state his brother was in so he knew how much yelling he could get away with beforehand.

He looked in the peephole in his door before he opened it, and saw Veneziano had apparently ridden his bike here. He stood there looking nervous, with an overnight bag over his shoulder and his bike at his side, with no obvious tear traces or marks of abuse. He seemed normal enough, but normal for him would usually mean smiling, which he was not. He opened the door and was immediately assaulted with a huge hug, which he quickly reciprocated, and they kissed each other twice on each cheek before Veneziano broke away and started chattering.

" _Buonasera, fratello!*_ It's so good to see you, how have you been? Thanks so much for letting me stay over." He smiled, but Romano still thought something was wrong.

"No problem, come inside, I was just cooking." Veneziano jumped in excitement and moved to the kitchen, switching to full Italian as they talked.

"So, brother, are you going to tell me what's going on?" He couldn't resist pushing. Plus, the sooner they started talking and stopped avoiding the subject, the sooner Veneziano would be feeling better.

"Oh, it's no big deal." Feliciano said as they reached the kitchen and noticed the pasta water was boiling over. "Woah, when did you start this?" Lovino cursed internally. He hadn't kept an eye on it, because he had been too consumed with irritation to start the stove up and then he forgot.

"Shit!" Lovino grabbed the lid off the pot and grabbed a towel to mop up the overflow, and Feliciano dropped in the pasta and started stirring. Then he noticed the sauce that had also been left unattended and gave a small cry of dismay. Lovino scowled and backed away, remembering why he didn't spend time with his brother very often. _He always does this. Even though I love him and everything, does he have to take over everything I do all the time?_

"I can do it!" Lovino elbowed Feliciano out of the way and started stirring both the pasta and the sauce. Feliciano huffed and started adding in seasoning, completely ignoring his protests. "Do you mind?"

"I'm just fixing it because you left it alone while you were sulking again!" Feliciano started pouring olive oil into the pot.

"I wasn't sulking, you're sulking!" Lovino grabbed the bottle away from him. "And I already put that in there!"

"Well you wouldn't know it from the way it's looking now, how do you mess up spaghetti?"

"Yeah, well I'm sorry I can't fucking commune with vegetables like your potato bastard boyfriend taught you!" Lovino shouted, completely losing his temper.

"What does that even _mean_? Why do you drag Ludwig, who is not my boyfriend, into every single conversation? What do you have against him, anyway? What did he ever do to you?" They were both yelling by now, gesturing wildly in their agitation.

"NOTHING!"

"THEN WHAT IS YOUR PROBLEM?" They both froze and Lovino suddenly felt his anger drain away so completely he felt like slumping face down onto the floor. Instead he shrugged, dropped his hands to his sides, and returned his attention to the stove without speaking. "Well?" Feliciano was still waiting for him to answer, but he couldn't. He couldn't possibly explain it to him if he couldn't see it himself. If he was truly so blind. "Lovi?" Feliciano inched closer to him and gently took his arm. Lovino shrugged it off and shook his head.

"Just stir the pasta." He practically growled. He was furious with himself, even more so when he realized tears were prickling at his eyes. _What the fuck is wrong with me? That stupid potato bastard is going to ruin both our lives, AGAIN._ He blinked.

"Lovi!" Feliciano whined. "What's wrong?" _Nothing._ He sniffed. _NO. NO! Keep it together, Lovi. You can._ He started stirring the pasta sauce more aggressively. _What's wrong with me? Why can't I protect him? Why is this upsetting me so much?_

"Nothing, Feli." He sighed. He couldn't even bring himself to explain his thoughts. There was no way he could it.

"Don't lie. I can't be lied to today." Feliciano suddenly looked very small, too young for this, whatever he might think this was. Lovino swallowed his emotions and took his brother gently by the hand.

" _Mio Dio…_ You're an idiot." He shook his head and squeezed his hand before he let his brother go. "What's wrong with us, Feli?" He sighed.

"I don't know." Feliciano resumed cooking, clearly trying to soothe himself. "I've had such an 'off' day. I woke up and we had the day off, so I started drawing, but all I could think of was cleaning."

"Wait, what?" Lovino wasn't following; had he misheard?

"I was trying to draw, but for some stupid reason probably, I wanted to clean the house instead."

"What? How is that even possible? Are you sick?" He asked in sudden alarm.

"I don't know!" Veneziano shrugged. "I don't think so." They fell into relative silence. Romano's big-brother feature had switched on when Veneziano had arrived, and now it was going on overdrive. He wanted to wrestle him down to the ground and demand to know exactly what was wrong, but that never worked. He would have to settle for prying it out little by little until he knew exactly who to yell at and why. Even if he was pretty sure he knew already.

After dinner, they Feliciano seemed much happier and more like his usual self. That may have been partially due to the now-half-empty bottle of red wine they had shared with their pasta. But nonetheless, he was cheerful while they talked and laughed like they only did when they were alone together. Cheerful, just as always. Lovino remained alert, as best he could, but when he was honest with himself he had pretty much given up on trying to figure out exactly what was going on with his brother by the time they were preparing to go to sleep.

He grabbed a blanket from a chair and spread it over the cushions, then got a spare pillow and another blanket from his closet and set them down at one end of the couch just as Feliciano emerged from the bathroom in his pajamas. "I hope this is okay."

"It's great, thanks." He jumped over the back of the couch and flopped on his side, then scrabbled for the other blanket and readjusted the pillow.

"Good. Good night, Feli." Lovino clicked off the main light in the room and was about to turn around and go to bed himself, but he lingered for a moment.  
"Hey, Lovi." Feliciano suddenly said seriously. "Do you think 1861 is a weird combination?" His eyes were glassy but sharp.

"Um, what?"

Feliciano turned on his back and stretched his neck over the pillow so he was gazing at Lovino upside-down. "1861 is a weird combination for a lock, isn't it?" He blinked innocently, sounding sleepy.

"Um… Wait, isn't that the combination for your luggage? And your bike lock? Because it's the year Italy was unified." Lovino remembered.

"Yeah." His eyeline seemed to be a million miles away. "That's Ludwig's combination too." He yawned.

"What?"

"Oh, Ludwig found this old lock and I guessed the combination because it was 1861, which was the first number I could think of. It was kind of a cool coincidence." He murmured, closing his eyes.

"Wait, why would he set that as his combination?" Lovino wasn't sure he was even half following this conversation, but he still felt uneasy anticipation as he thought of things he alone knew.

"I dunno. Kind of an important year for me…" Feliciano said dreamily, and gave half a giggle. "I remember… My friend said… That it would be."

"Wait, what friend?" Lovino definitely wasn't following, and he was afraid Feliciano was about two more cryptic sentences from falling asleep. "Feli, what are you talking about?"

"I dunno." He giggled again. "I miss…" Lovino waited for several seconds, before he started thinking his previous estimate was slightly long, and then Feliciano spoke again. "I miss him."

"I know you do." Lovino said softly. _That bastard! Feli still loves him even after he left! Even after all this time! Stupid, stupid, they're both so stupid! How can they be this stupid? How can he still love him? How can he not see what will happen, what is happening? How can I be the only one to see him as he is?_ Lovino sighed in the growing silence. "I know you do." He whispered to himself. He crept soundlessly into his own room and slid the door shut, with one final glance to where he knew his brother lay as he switched off his own light.

 _Domire bene, fratello… Ti amo.**_

* * *

* _Buonasera, fratello- Good evening, brother_

 _**_ Domire bene, fratello... Ti ami- Sleep well, brother... I love you.


	7. Chapter 7: To Me

**Chapter 7: To Me**

Prussia was lying supine with his hands over his face, flat on his bed, just trying to suffocate his thoughts. He moaned in exhausted embarrassment as he replayed the events of the day in his mind for the hundredth time. _So un-awesome… So bad… How could I totally lose my cool like that and just… Just tell him I think I know something from his past, why not, Prussia? Nice, just nice, no idea what's going on yourself so just tell him I have some totally random idea and get his hopes up when I don't even understand what I'm thinking, let's just go and do that, great job, Prussia. Great job. So awesome. Especially that second time when you fricking yelled in the middle of a lover's quarrel that wasn't even related to you at all. That was really great. So awesome. Just wonderful timing there and everything. What is my problem? Why can't I just act normal when I know something? Or think I know something? Why is everything so weird all of a sudden?_

He could barely think, and just wanted to forget everything that had happened today. He sighed and turned on his side. _Why… Why am I acting so un-awesome?_ His eyes were squeezed shut, but he could sense Gilbird hopping up to him and watching him from his nightstand. There was a concerned cheep, and Gilbert scrunched his limbs up into an exhausted ball. "Don't worry about me, I'm just stupid." Gilbird chirped in disapproval before fluttering onto his head and scavenging his hair for nesting materials. He stayed still and let him, enjoying the familiar avian affection. Gilbird chirped reassuringly, as if to let Gilbert know that even though he was an idiot, he would still always be awesome in his eyes. Gilbert sighed again and slowly lifted his head and curled into a sitting position. Gilbird hopped down onto his shoulder and cooed gently.

"I don't know what to do, Gil." He closed his eyes. "This is all so convoluted and weird. First I see Italy, then I see him hold my brother's hand, then I see some old broom downstairs and suddenly I think…" He couldn't finish the sentence, but he opened his eyes and stared at the wall. "And part of me thinks it's just crazy, but another part thinks I should have known all along, but how could I have known?" He looked over at Gilbird, who didn't seem to have an answer. "You think I should just forget it, don't you?" Gilbird looked away. "That's what I thought. Well, you know what? I'm going to keep obsessing about it until I figure it out, and then I'm going to obsess about how to tell my brother, and if I just figured out that I'm stupid that's exactly what I'll tell him, so there!" Abruptly he realized he was almost shouting at his beloved. "I'm sorry." He cradled Gilbird in his hands. "I just really don't know what to do."

He thought he saw Gilbird sigh and roll his eyes as he cocked his head in the direction of the desk in the room. "What?" Gilbird nodded again at the package from earlier and the phone, and Gilbert suddenly realized what he meant. "I don't feel like calling her right now." This earned him a look of incredulity. "Seriously, I'm tired and she's probably busy anyway."

If Gilbird he could talk, he looked like he would have been screaming at him to call Elizaveta. Gilbert relented and stood up. "Fine, I'll just see if she's home and start looking through the diaries." Gilbird chirped in satisfaction and flew up to perch on the shelf above the desk where he stood preening his wing as Prussia dialed. It took eight rings for someone to answer the phone, and he was about to ring off and try again later when suddenly Roderich's voice greeted him, sounding somehow blasé and irritated at the same time.

" _Guten tag._ You have reached the house of Austria and Hungary. May I ask who this is and what this call is regarding?" _Scheisse*. I don't really want to talk to him right now. Okay, don't worry, I'll just give a fake name or something and say I want to talk to Elizaveta, he won't recognize my voice if I change my speech pattern or something right?_

"Hello, sir." He said in his best American accent, which was even worse than his brother's. He tried not to laugh as he remembered that time Ludwig had pretended to be American and it actually worked. "I would like to speak to the lady of the house because it has come to my attention that she has access to a set of some awesome journals that I wish to discuss with her. May I please speak with Liz?" He covered the receiver and started snickering. _He's totally going to buy it and I won't have to deal with any awkward conversation. I'm so awesome._

"Prussia, you boorish idiot, I know it's you. Who else describes journals as 'awesome' and calls Elizaveta by such uncouth shortened nickname? And what on earth is that stupid accent?"

"America, obviously."

"No."

"Yes!"

"No. I'm hanging up now."

"Wait, I know you're mad at me." Prussia said quickly. "But I really do need to talk to Liz, and also I'm sorry about the thing that got you mad at me."

"Which was?" Silence. "You have no idea."

"No, I know what it is. You said…" He tried to remember, the details were all so bizarre. "That time… You said you were in love with me and I said… Wait, was that you?"

"I think so." Austria huffed. "I think I would remember the details of that one. Go on, what did you do wrong again?"

"Umm…" He seriously couldn't remember what had happened next. "I know I wrote that down, which is why you're mad at me, what did I say next?"

"'Okay'."

"What?"

"You said, 'Okay' and apparently then wrote it down in this diary which I was not aware you were keeping, which was then found by a person who is now my wife, do you see a problem here?" Silence again.

"Possibly." He said at last. "Did I really respond with 'Okay'? Were those my exact words or did I just basically say it was okay, because I honestly don't remember saying that."

"Your exact words to me on the day of the event were 'Okay, I'm going to go grab a beer because I'm awesome and then go hang out with Liz, see you later,' to which I could find no adequate response." Prussia was startled at how quickly he had found that response.

"Dude, that's really specific, are you by any chance… Reading from the diary right now?" He asked in slight trepidation. _I may not remember all of what I write, but I'm pretty sure there's some worse stuff I did than that written there._

"I remembered well enough. But that's not the main point, Prussia. The main point is that you recorded this without telling me and now it has fallen into Hungary's hands. This can only be bad for both of us." Austria sounded legitimately concerned, and Prussia couldn't help laughing.

"How? What could she possibly do with that information? Even though I forgot to tell her when it happened, she pretty much figured it out anyway even though she was mad at me. I think she was mostly mad because she's really into that kind of stuff for whatever reason and thought I was withholding it on purpose, not because she was mad that it happened." He grinned to himself as he thought of Liz's excitement, even fascination, with the romantic lives of those around her. It had seemed disturbing at first, but now he found it oddly endearing.

"Well, be that as it may, it was still embarrassing to have her find out about it after all these years." Roderich sounded annoyed. "I didn't realize you were transcribing the entire conversation."

"Well, I do that all the time, I thought it was just kind of general knowledge that I have a huge selection of awesome diaries dating back centuries." Gilbert shrugged.

"You know our relationship was originally formed as a result of both of us being inconvenienced by you." Roderich sounded both smug and slightly nettled. "This has continued to be a large part of our lives."

"Well, I'm sorry I'm so awesome. Can we please just move on?"

"No."  
"Fine. So we're just going to have this between us forever. Think about it every time we see each other. Every time we do anything together, we'll be thinking about this. Is that what you want? Liz to squeal every time we touch, even in casual contact?" There was a long silence.

"No." Roderich said at last. "I can't believe she's enjoying this so much. She still hasn't apologized for reading it."

"Does she have to clear everything she reads with you first?" Gilbert asked incredulously. "You're more controlling than ever."  
"It's not proper for a lady to read such things about her husband!" Roderich stammered.

"Don't you think you're overreacting a little?" He knew this was the wrong thing to say, but he just couldn't help it. Ever since they got married, Roderich had been getting more and more proper and protective of Liz, proposing all sorts of ridiculous restrictions, and she just let him tell her what to do like she was still a servant in his house. Gilbert couldn't pretend it hadn't gotten worse than ever recently. He was practically tuning in to her phone calls. "Also, isn't it rather inappropriate for the husband of such a lady to do such things?"

"Isn't it rather improper for the friend of a lady to record such things?" Roderich retorted impeccably.

"I'm awesome, your point is irrelevant."

"You're irrelevant."  
"Your country's irrelevant."

"At least I have a meaningful romantic relationship in my life."

"At least I'm awesome and don't have a stupid face."

"You're as infuriating, dense, and arrogant as you always were." Austria sounded suddenly bitter.

" _Ohhhh, NOW_ this is feeling kind of familiar." Prussia grinned. "I bet this would be going a little differently if I was there in person now though, wouldn't it?"

"You're disgusting. And an idiot. Elizaveta is so fortunate that she had the good sense to leave you and the hideous fate that had awaited her." Roderich scoffed, and Gilbert felt a rush of genuine anger. _Low blow. Low._

"You know what, you're awfully self-righteous for someone who confessed their love for another man when they were already supposedly planning to rescue their future wife from such a 'hideous fate' with me! At least she was happy!"

"She's happy with me!" They were both yelling now. "And she doesn't fight anymore. She doesn't risk her life for no good reason. At least she's safe with me."

"Well, I guess we're both in agreement!" Gilbert snapped, finding himself increasingly flustered and red in the face. He wasn't even sure what he meant, but he hoped Roderich wouldn't pick up on that. "May I please speak to Liz?" There was an icy silence.

"You must address her by her proper name, to show respect for the lady." Roderich said at last. _You have got to be kidding me. He's seriously not going to let me talk to her unless I call her 'Elizaveta'. This is getting out of hand. But what can I do? My awesomeness just makes him angry. If I push him, he might do something worse than this._ He felt a clutch of panic in his chest as he thought of all the things Roderich could do to him without ever lifting a finger. For all his talk, he had power to hurt him, fatally. And even though they both knew he hadn't done it yet because of his genuine affection for Liz, and maybe lingering feelings of some kind for Gilbert, he still might. He still could.

"May I please speak to Elizaveta?" He said at last. The name rolled unnaturally off his tongue, foreign though he knew it was hers. Elizaveta. That was her name. That had always been her name. He knew it was her name, and it shouldn't be strange to call her that. It was who she was.

"She's not available at the moment." Gilbert felt such a white hot flash of indignation he nearly slammed the phone down, but restrained himself at the last second.

"You could have said that at the beginning of this conversation."

"Well, I didn't."

"Might I inquire as to where she is and when she will be back?" It was all he could do to keep from gritting his teeth as he said this.

"She is busy. She told me she was cleaning out a friend's basement. I'll tell her you called. Thank you for your interest. Actually, that sentence could lead to awkward misinterpretations."

"I understood. I'll call again later." He practically growled.

"Roderich? Who's that on the phone?" A female voice was heard faintly in the background. _Liz! That liar, she's probably been in the house the whole time._

"No one, dear." Austria said, sounding distant before he seemed to return his attention to the phone. "Call again later." He hissed.

"No!" Prussia protested. "I can hear her, shouldn't she be able to decide if she wants to talk to me?" There was silence and a sharp click, over which Prussia faintly heard Hungary speaking.  
"Was that Gilbert? He said he would call me."

"Why is he calling you so much? What do you even talk about?"

"I don't know, we're friends! We talk about all kinds of stuff!"

"He's such an idiot, though! I honestly don't know why you still consort with such an adamantly juvenile hooligan at your age and station of life." Abruptly Gilbert realized Roderich thought he had already hung up the phone. _This is awkward… Do I tell them I'm still here? Would they hear me anyway? Are they going to keep talking?_

"He's my friend!" Elizaveta protested. "He was kind to me when I needed it most, and we've known each other for centuries. You can't expect me to forget everything I had before you."

"But you've known me for centuries. We're _married_ , Elizaveta!

"Can't I have friends?"

"Am I not enough? Is the life we have not enough for you? _Uh-oh._ His awesome ability to detect a fight on the horizon was sensing high levels of tension.

"That's not what I'm saying, Roderich!"

"Well, what are you saying?!"

"That I'd like to talk to my friend once in awhile without you breathing down my neck like you don't trust me!" _Yikes, things sound way worse than I thought. I thought they were always so happy! Even though they've been getting weaker, they always seemed happy..._

"Elizaveta, please don't lash out at me in this way. It's as if those violent tendencies you used to have are resurfacing. It is most unbecoming of you." There was a horribly long silence, and Gilbert winced in trepidation as he listened for Elizaveta's reply.

"I apologize." She said at last.

"SHE WHAT?" He shrieked, barely covering the receiving end of the phone in time. Gilbird squawked in alarm. "Shh!" He hissed, bringing the phone back to his ear.

"-For thinking it would be reasonable to expect you to trust me. I saved your life, you know that? I saved _you_!"

"Ohhh, buurrrn!" He exclaimed. "You tell him, Liz! He can't control you like that!" Abruptly he realized that they probably didn't know he was there. Which was probably for the best, because if they knew he was still listening, scrabbling for a pen and his diary as they spoke, the following conversation probably wouldn't end well for him.

"Please don't raise your voice at me!"

"You married her, loser! You get what you're asking for." He muttered, scrawling on a blank page.

"Roderich, you know our life has been full of happiness, but it has come at a lot of sacrifice for me! Case in point, I raise my voice when I feel strongly! But in your house I barely spoke at first. I grew under your rule, of almost every action, until we fell in love!"

"I cared for you! I cared for everyone under my roof as well as I ever could, and you know this better than anyone! It wasn't my fault we lost Italy!" _Suuuure, not at all. You never did anything to even make him want to leave, did you?_

"Roderich, we have too much baggage. It's been a long reign."

"Wait, what?" Gilbert dropped his pen. _This fight is going in a different direction than I expected. Should I let them know I'm still on the phone now?_

"Elizaveta, what exactly are you saying?" Roderich spoke slowly.

"I'm saying I think a discussion of our relationship is long overdue. We need some time to sort this out. We need to talk."

"I thought everything was fine!"

"Well, that shows how much you pay attention. You didn't even hang up the phone properly, idiot!" _Oh ****************. She knows I'm listening._ "There's a ninety-five percent chance Prussia is still listening to our conversation, and you're the only person in the room not to notice the entire time. Are you serious? Did you even notice when Italy started liking that blond kid that used to live with us? Did you even notice all the weird stuff that started happening after the 900s? It's still going on, and Prussia is the only other person who actually has an idea of what it was. So I really need to talk to him!" She made a point of raising her voice for the last sentence and suddenly she came across much more clearly.

"Prussia! I'm so sorry, I don't know why he's acting out so much lately. I guess we're having some problems communicating." Hungary said pointedly, and Prussia got the sense she was shooting a glare at Austria as she spoke.

"That dumbass always has problems communicating, he couldn't even hang up the phone." Prussia scoffed. There was a muted snort, then Hungary hissed back.

"Shut up, he's only just left the room and I swear if we have one more stupid fight this week—" She laughed, but at the same time, her voice kind of broke. "It hasn't been the best day."

Gilbert felt a pang of dismay at the unhappiness in her voice. He was only able to get through his days if he knew the people he loved had a chance of being happy, even if he wasn't there. As long as they were happy and lived well, he could get on with his own life. The last few years, he'd been focusing on making other people happy. Even if it didn't seem that way from an outsider's perspective, that's what he was doing. "Liz, don't worry. I know you and Roderich will be fine, I'm sure it's just a rough patch for everyone." He heard her breathing shakily and feared he'd said the wrong thing. Then she gulped.

"Thanks, Gilbert. I don't know what I'd do without you." She sighed. "Let's not talk about this anymore. I'm sorry you had to overhear my husband being such a little bitch. He's so oblivious sometimes, honestly—don't write that—but it's just been such a stupid day."

"I wasn't writing it!" Gilbert protested. He'd dropped his pen. As he reached under the desk to retrieve it, he assured Elizaveta, "It's been a pretty weird day all around. I was pretty un-awesome a few times."

"Wait, Gilbert Beilschmidt himself is admitting that he wasn't awesome? More than once in a day?" Elizaveta snorted.

"Well, kind of. And Ludwig and Feliciano got in a fight."

"Oh, Gilbert…" Elizaveta sighed. "What did you do?"

"Nothing, I just helped clean the basement!"  
" _Ewwww_ , is that a euphemism? What did you do?!"

"What? _No!_ What would that even mean?!" He shook his head to clear whatever image was in Elizaveta's mind from his own as quickly as possible.

"I don't know, it just sounded like something you would say if you did something stupid!"

"Well, I did! Wanna hear the whole story?" She burst into laughter.

"Please. Of course I want the whole story! What were they fighting about?! What's going on over there? I have to know!"

"Okay, so I got up this morning," Prussia began. "And I'm totally keeping my cool even though I feel like I'm carrying around this huge secret that we're researching. I'm totally cool because I'm just so naturally awesome it wasn't even a problem until Italy came into the room—"

"Which is when you totally lost it and started howling like an intoxicated hyena, right?" Hungary interjected.

"Um, no…" Prussia rolled his eyes. "That happened _later_. Well, sort of. But when he first came into the room I reacted pretty well. I mean, I dropped everything I was holding and a minute later I fell but I felt I handled it rather awesomely."

Hungary snorted. "What could either of them possibly have done for that reaction to be considered 'handling it awesomely'?"

"Liz, Feliciano kisses people when he greets them."

"So?" Elizaveta seemed to be missing the point.

"Ludwig most certainly does not! I have never, in my entire life, seen him kiss someone. But he kissed him on both cheeks like it was a normal thing to do. And he got flustered when I stared at them and I shrugged it off, but it was freaky! He's never that openly affectionate, with anyone. And, wait, did I ever show you that one picture where he's smiling?" He asked.

"Um, no? It's mostly you doing the smiling. Is he self-conscious about his teeth or something?"

"I don't think so, he has an awesome smile, just like mine, but he just doesn't smile that often. At least, I never saw him do it. But as soon as Feliciano comes into the room it's like, he's smiling more than I've ever seen him in his life in the span of two minutes."

"He's happy? That's so adorable!" Elizaveta squealed. "Don't mess it up!"

"I wasn't going to!" Gilbert protested.

"I thought you said you already did!"

"I don't know what I did! Let me finish the story."

"Fine. So Feli came in and you acted stupid, and then what happened?"

"Well, then I had to leave the room because my awesomeness combined with the awkwardness I was feeling was making it too hard for me to act normal, so I made an excuse and left for a minute."

"To go and cackle like a hyena because you have no idea how to handle situations like this." Elizaveta supplied.

"I suppose you could say that. But when I got back, the room felt kind of different. Lud and I decide to go and clean out his basement together."

"Ohhh, a literal…" Elizaveta realized. "I see. I thought something else was going on."

"Again, what would that even mean?"

"I don't know! It just sounds like something you would say."

"You said that already. And since when am _I_ the one who uses creepy euphemisms that nobody else understands?" Gilbert protested.

"Just tell the story."

"Fine. So we go to clean out the basement and he's like, 'I know we're keeping secrets' and I'm like, 'Yeaaaahhhh…. I think I know something about your past, but I don't know what it is so I can't tell you.' and he's like 'Excuse you? If you know something, you have to tell me,' and I just basically panicked and tried to change the subject."

"I'm not surprised he was annoyed! You idiot, why would you tell him when we don't have any idea of this ourselves? I'm still not totally sure what your thinking is." Elizaveta sighed. "That your brother used to be somebody I knew? It just sounds so crazy."

"I know it does, but I bet I can prove it's not. Oh, _mein Gott!_ I haven't told you the most awesome part of the day yet! When we were cleaning out the basement—"

"I'm sorry, I just can't hear that with a straight face." Elizaveta interjected.

"What's wrong with you?" Gilbert leaned away from the phone.

"I can't help it!"

"Whatever, anyway, when we were cleaning out the… Storage area—wait, no, I see the problem—when we were cleaning… When we were cleaning, we found this box full of my brother's really old stuff. Like, the oldest stuff he owns. It was what he was wearing and carrying when I first found him—"

"WAIT!" Elizaveta practically shouted. "What was in the box?"

"Um, a cloak and a shield and some other stuff, why?"

"What did the cloak look like?" Elizaveta demanded.

"Um, it was just a regular long black cloak. Why?"

"I don't know. Sorry, keep going."

"Anyway… Like I said, we found this shield, and get this—it had a combination lock on the back of it."

"Wait, what? How would that even work?"

"Well, it was like, behind the wrist strap, there was a panel, and at the end of the panel there was this little sliding combination lock like for luggage, you know?"

"Oh!" She seemed to have a clearer picture of what he was describing. "I see, so it was… Ah, that makes sense, I couldn't think of where a panel would fit on a shield, I'm assuming one like the kind you used to use."

"Yes, it's like that one." He was grateful that she understood weaponry, and glad she still retained her extensive knowledge of it, even though she had stopped fighting long ago.

"But why was there a panel with a lock? That doesn't make any sense."

"That's what we thought. So we took it upstairs and started entering a bunch of combinations because we wanted to find out what was in there, and we're doing it for like half an hour or something before we give up, and then Feliciano walks in and he's like 'Can I try?' and we're like 'Sure, why not?' because we're so tired of it at this point. And then he tries and the first number he puts in is the right combination."

"Woah, that's crazy! How did he know? What was the combination?"

"1861, the-"

"-The year he was unified…" Elizaveta supplied. "I remember. But why was that the combination? Wasn't this Ludwig's shield? When did he set it, why would he set it to that? I'm so confused."

"Yeah! It was so weird, none of us knew what was going on! Germany said he didn't remember this lock even being there, so we figure he set it before he lost his memory, because he has pretty solid recollection of everything after that and he'd definitely remember this, but before that, nothing. So it was probably before that."

"Right, but… Why was that the combination?"

"That's the part nobody understands. It was set before that year, _way_ before Germany met Italy. It doesn't make any sense. Italy said he thought that would be an important year, but it wasn't really clear why he knew that. It was so weird!"

"Wow!" Hungary breathed. "This is so mysterious. Wait, what was in the panel? What was Germany keeping in his shield?"

"Oh, I almost forgot that part! It was a key!"

"A key?"

"Yes, but we don't know what it was for."

"Well, what did it look like?"

"Um, it was a skeleton key." He described it in greater detail, mentioning, to the best of his recollection, the shape and size of the teeth.

"Huh. This kind of looks like a key I have. I drew a picture based on what your description." She explained. "Interesting. What else happened?"

"Well, I'm still not totally sure. We kept looking at the shield and the key, trying to figure out what they were for, and then my natural awesomeness kicked in and I discovered an inscription on the shield!"

"An inscription? This is so fascinating, I wish I was with you!" There was a charged silence. At least, it felt charged to Gilbert. But he shrugged it off.

"I know, right? It said "Never forget me," in Italian."

Elizaveta gasped. " _Italian?!_ " She took several deep, very audible breaths.

"Er, Liz? Are you okay?" He asked in concern. He'd only heard do that when she was having a very significant realization, and expected everyone else to understand it immediately.

" _It was in Italian? You realize what this means?_ This is practically proof! Did they really not realize?" She exclaimed.

"I'm not sure _I_ realize. Liz, slow down, tell me what you're thinking."

"Ugh!" She sounded exhausted, but took a deep breath and mustered her energy to explain herself. "The writing was in Italian. Who do we know who's Italian?"

"Uh, Italy?" Prussia hazarded.

"Yes, Italy is Italian. But Germany, does he even understand Italian?" Prussia snickered.

"Not at all. At least, I've never known him to be able to speak, read, or write it."

"Well, it's pretty weird then that there's an Italian inscription on his shield, right?"

"Yeah. But maybe…" A realization of his own suddenly dawned on him. "Liz, he doesn't remember anything of who he was before I found him. Or so I thought, but apparently there was a girl he liked or something WHICH HE NEVER EVEN BOTHERED TO TELL HIS AWESOME BIG BROTHER. But anyway, there's a lot of stuff that he could have potentially known, but _forgotten_."

"So you're saying, you think your brother knew Italian but lost the ability to speak or understand it when he lost his memory." Elizaveta said, to be sure.

"If he ever did, he would have lost it." Gilbert confirmed. "It's lucky we both spoke German."

"Did you, though?" Elizaveta asked.

"What do you mean?"

"Are you sure that's what he spoke before you took him in? Is that the first language he used to address you?"

" _Mein Gott._ " He breathed. _Is it really possible that German isn't my brother's first language?_ He tried to think back, back to when Ludwig first came out of his coma and tried to communicate. He had a flash of memory, of his brother's blue eyes flickering open dully, listlessly scanning the room and taking in Gilbert's face, blinking in absent incomprehension. As Gilbert addressed him, he blinked and nodded but gave no vocal response. He couldn't speak at first. It was weeks after he woke, before he spoke… _Mein Gott. He could have learned it from me. Maybe it wasn't what he spoke before we met. No, I mean, it's possible, I guess even plausible, but what difference would that make anyway?_ "I don't know, I guess it's _possible_ … If so, that would explain why the inscription was written in Italian."

"Exactly! I think he understood another language, at least similar to Italian, when he wrote that. It said 'Never Forget Me', right?" She gasped again. "I've got to look into this! I'm going to go check something. Wait, no, finish your story first. Was there more?" She asked eagerly.

"Oh, yeah! There was also some kind of drawing above the inscription, but I don't know if it's significant or not. It was like, this box, next to a long line."

"Wait, what kind of box? What kind of line?"

"Um…" _How do I describe a line?_ "A vertical line next to a rectangle." There was a sound of pencil on paper.

"Huh. Thanks. What else happened?"

"Okay, the day was already pretty weird by this point. But this is where we messed up. I'm still not totally sure what happened, I just know that my awesomeness faltered somewhere _right_ here. Ludwig and I got in a silent argument, and then Ludwig and Feliciano got into an out-loud argument. And then in the middle, I yelled something that I probably shouldn't have yelled." Elizaveta dissolved into laughter.

When she finally regained control of herself, she said, "You've had this problem before. Why do you do this? Were you even involved in the argument? What exactly happened?"

"Oh, Liz." Gilbert smiled helplessly and shook his head. "I'm so awesome, my brain doesn't usually filter what I have to say. But sometimes, like today, that's not so good. Because when Ludwig said, 'I don't remember to tell you everything,' I screamed…" He suddenly cracked up and couldn't continue his sentence. "I _screamed_ … In the middle of their argument…" He collapsed into laughter again and fought desperately to regain his ability to speak. "He said, 'I don't remember,' and I _screamed_ 'THERE'S A LOT OF THINGS YOU DON'T REMEMBER!'" He fell forward onto the table, clutching his sides as the full extent of his prior idiocy hit him full in the face. Miles away, he heard Elizaveta practically sobbing in laughter down the phone, and they were both fighting for breath.

"You—Actually—Said— _THAT_?" Elizaveta gasped between fits of laughter. "Those were your exact words?!"

"Yes," He choked. "Those were my exact words. I literally said, 'There are a lot of things you don't remember'." They finally calmed down, then erupted into giggles again.

" _Istenem, mi vagyunk a rendetlenség**_." Hungary sighed after they finished. "We've done some of the stupidest shit."

"I have, you stood by and placed bets on it." They started laughing again. There was a bang on the door.

"Hey!" Germany shouted. "Keep it down, there are noise restrictions in this neighborhood! Stop laughing so loudly at what I can only assume is your own idiocy!"

"Sorry, I mean, shut up!" He stammered back. "Oh, wait, Ludwig, actually can you come in a second?"

"What do you want?" Germany slowly and cautiously opened the door and peeked around the door frame before he actually entered the room, a habit he had developed after one too many embarrassing encounters.

"Did your bossy big brother tell you to keep it down?" Hungary sniggered gleefully.

He was suddenly struck with an idea. "Shut up, hang on Liz, I'll be right back." He set the phone down on the table and rushed to his suitcase. Gilbert extracted a camera and repositioned Ludwig against a blank wall in his room. "Smile."

"No. What are you doing?" Ludwig recoiled.

"Taking a picture to send to Liz, she hasn't seen any in awhile." He replied quickly, the excuse conveniently true.

"How different do I look?" Ludwig was skeptical.

"Very. Your smile is awesome, just like mine, so why haven't I seen more of it before now?" He asked as he aligned the camera's lens.

"I don't know, I guess I'm not as much of a smiler as you are." The camera zoomed in on his standard pensive expression.

"That's okay, you don't have to smile for this, I'm just saying, you seem a lot happier lately." He snapped the picture, and the flash momentarily blinded them both. "A few more, just in case." He snapped again and Ludwig huffed and shielded his eyes in irritation. "Alright, you can go. Thanks!"

Ludwig rolled his eyes and left the room. "Keep it down!" He added as he pulled the door closed.

"No problem!" Gilbert rolled his eyes as soon as the door was shut. He picked up the phone again. "Sorry Liz, my brother says our collective awesomeness is going to disturb the neighbors. We have to be quiet." He scoffed. "But I got him to hold still for a picture, I'll develop it and send it to you tomorrow."

"Oh, thanks! I always like to see him growing up."

"He's pretty much grown now." Prussia sighed. "You know, when I first saw him this time I swore he was taller than me. Now he's off, fighting wars of his own, probably about to get a boyfriend, and I'm the same. It feels like just a few decades ago that he was just a kid!"

"It _was_ a few decades ago. Man, he grew up fast." Hungary exhaled.

"He was so small." Prussia found himself reminiscing. "He was almost a teenager, but he barely reached my waist…"

"I think you were a little taller then too." Prussia felt a squirm of anxiety. He himself knew he was a little weaker than he used to be, a little smaller, but he didn't think anyone noticed.

"Was I?" He hoped he didn't sound defensive.

"I think we've all changed a little over the years." Hungary shrugged it off. "I wear dresses now. I guess Italy doesn't anymore. Germany's grown up." She sounded wistful.

Suddenly, Prussia felt sick. "I miss you."

Hungary laughed. "It's been two days, _szivem***_." Then she stopped as she realized he was serious. "Gilbert? Are you alright?"

"I…" He muttered. "I can't say."

There was a beat of silence. "Me neither." He felt even sicker. Even sicker still knowing he could never explain why he felt so wrong. Not even to his best friend.

And suddenly, he felt a swell of determination rise in his chest. Maybe he couldn't explain his own feelings, but he thought he could do something more. He could explain someone else's, and make two lives complete. If he was right. But he needed proof.

"Hey, Liz." He said seriously. "I know you've already done a lot. But I wanted to ask you: Do you think you might be able to keep helping me investigate this thing with Ludwig and Feliciano? I need someone like you, someone who paid attention." She didn't even hesitate.

"Consider it done."

* * *

 _Translations (may not be accurate)_

 _*Scheisse- shit_

 _**_ _Istenem, mi vagyunk a rendetlenség- God, we are a mess_

 _***_ _szivem- honey, sweetheart_


	8. Chapter 8: I Will Not Let

_**AN:**_ _Ohmygosh over 1000 views! I don't deserve you guys. I'm so excited and I just wanted to pop in briefly and say that even though my updates might not be exactly consistent I will be here often, and this story and all of my readers are super important to me. Anyway I just wanted to say THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH I CAN'T BELIEVE SO MANY PEOPLE ARE READING THIS STORY YOU GUYS ARE ALL AWESOME I HOPE YOU ENJOY IT AND HAVE A GREAT DAY. So yeah, thanks for being here, I really appreciate all of you._

 _-End Note-_

 **Chapter Eight : I Will Not Let**

Feliciano stirred in his sleep. He whimpered and shivered, curling over and pressing his face into the pillow. Lovino picked up the blanket he had kicked to the floor and draped it over his shoulders with a sigh. Feliciano moaned and pulled the blanket up to his chin. His shoulders still shook, but he wasn't cold. Lovino realized he must be having nightmares again. He debated internally whether to wake him, but knew he would risk hurting him if he was startled. If he did, he would have to make sure it was at the right time, so he wouldn't panic.

This used to happen all the time. Feliciano had been prone to nightmares for years, and when he was little he used to wake up screaming and clutching at the sheets for dear life. Since then they'd become less intense, but not less frequent. Until recently, he assumed, because Lovino usually received a call the next morning when he'd had one, but there hadn't been many.

Feliciano moaned again, and this time Lovino thought he caught a few words before he buried his head in the pillow. " _Don't go…_ " Lovino snapped to attention, ready to wake him up if he heard the right words. He was an expert at reading his brother's emotions. He knew he had a few specific nightmares more than others, and he knew what he would need for each one. He listened carefully for the next words. " _Please…_ " _Wait a minute… This one's…_ His thoughts stopped midsentence and he felt like he'd just had a sip of an American drink. Icy cold. _Wait… No reason to get alarmed over nothing. It's not a big deal, just because this one's almost always really hard to wake him from… It's not the worst thing that could happen. It's probably just a variation of…_

" _Don't go…"_ His breath was coming shakily. Lovino looked out the window at the rising sun and figured he'd wake up on his own in a moment. " _H-h…"_ Feliciano shuddered, and Lovino swore he felt his heart crack. He'd seen this happen to his brother a hundred times, seen the memories it dredged up that they'd so successfully helped him forget. " _H-h-h… No… Non… G-g-"_ Lovino recoiled at the new sound. He was so accustomed to hearing one name stuttered over and over, the new word didn't register for a moment. " _Germany, don't go!"_ The sentence rang out clearly and Lovino nearly punched a wall when he realized what Feliciano had said. It was all he could do to keep from hurling himself to the ground in protest of his day going so horribly wrong, just minutes after he woke up.

He was about to ignore his own judgement and shout and shake his brother awake, but just as he was drawing breath, Feliciano stopped shaking. A single tear rolled down his face and then his features relaxed. He inhaled, and then he snored. It was as if the nightmare never existed.

Now that he was sleeping peacefully, Lovino felt his own breath coming shakily. His heart was pounding, his hands were shaking, and he was sure his face was flushing. But none of this came from fear. He stalked out of the room as quietly as possible and back into his own bedroom, fiercely attacking a pillow on his bed as soon as he'd closed the door. Then he flopped back onto the bed, pushing his face into the pillow and letting out a long, muffled scream of agonizing anger.

It was so unfair. Why did his brother have to have these nightmares? Why did he have to keep remembering things that he'd tried so hard to forget? He'd been doing so well recently. It was all that German's fault. Romano didn't know how his brother could live in the same house as that man and not realize what was going on. Yet he had proven again and again that he had no idea. Veneziano did not know, and Romano would not tell him. He'd been through so much already, if he really didn't know, he didn't deserve to have it all dragged up again like this.

Romano stayed there for what he could only assume was a few minutes, though it felt like hours. At last he pushed himself up and went to the bathroom to wash his face in case any anger had leaked out. As he looked in the mirror he felt utterly disgusted with this whole situation. He felt so helpless. He hated feeling helpless. But he couldn't dwell on it. He couldn't let his brother know he felt this way, because then he'd have to explain why, and that was something he could never do. He would never try. So he scrubbed his face clean, stood up straight, and took a deep breath before he went back out to his room. He knew he needed his sleep, but he hoped his brother would wake up soon.

Suddenly the phone rang. He was definitely not in the mood to answer it, but he didn't want it to disturb Feliciano, so he picked up the bedroom extension. "What?" He demanded.

A vaguely familiar female voice faltered a reply. "Um, sorry to disturb you, is this the house of Italia Romano, or...um, Lovino Vargas? May I speak to him?"

"This is he, who are you?"

"It's me, Elizaveta. I'm a friend of your brother's, I think we've met?" He scowled as he tried to place the name.

"Elizaveta… Elizaveta… Oh! You're Hungary! Right. What do you want?"

"I wanted to ask you some questions, and maybe speak to Feliciano if he's available."

"He's asleep, because it's six in the fucking morning. If you really want to talk to him, you should call his blond potato bastard boyfriend later in the day and he'll get him for you." He didn't consciously mean to snap, but honestly, who called at this hour?

"Oh, do you mean Germany?" She seemed to perk up. "I know his brother, Prussia. He's my best friend, I was actually just talking to him a few hours ago, but I wanted to talk to you—wait, did you say his _boyfriend_?"

"Hey, it's perfectly natural and there's nothing wrong with it so if you don't have anything nice to say—"

"Oh, _mein Gott_!" Hungary cut him off, sounding horrified, then started giggling. "No, no, no! I wasn't judging, I promise I'm not a homophobe, believe me—oh, I'd embarrass my husband to death if I said that, but anyway, I swear that's not what I meant."

"Oh." He didn't really know how to continue, so he just left it at that.

"I was just wondering if they're actually dating, do you know?" She added.

"Oh, I don't know. He won't tell me. I don't care." That was a lie. He crossed one arm awkwardly over his chest because his other hand was holding the phone.

"Hm. Hey, I hope this isn't too random or personal but—"  
"Okay, I'm going to stop you right there." Lovino cut in. "No."

"No? No what?" She sounded puzzled.  
"Whatever you want me to do, I'm not going to do it.

"You don't have to do anything, I just have a few questions for you."

"Why are you asking me anything?"

There was a bit of a pause, and when Elizaveta spoke again, the inflection of her voice had changed. "Okay, Lovi, I wanted to ask—"

"Don't call me Lovi."

"Sorry. Lovino. I was wondering, didn't you visit my brother while he was living in my house?"

"Yes. Is this going anywhere?"

"Soon, I promise. Was there anyone else there?"

"I don't know what you mean."

"Who did you speak to when you were there?"

"Um…" _What the hell kind of question is that? I have no fucking idea._ "Him, you, that weird piano bastard…" He stopped. _Oh. Oh, no way. NO. WAY._ He felt the blood rushing to his head before she even spoke. He'd suddenly realized exactly why she'd called. But he bit his tongue and held his breath for her next question.

"Anybody else?" She asked mildly. "Do you remember any… Names?" _Oh yeah. Yeah, lady, I remember names._

" _No."_ He said defiantly. "To make sure you understand, _nein_. I can't say any names. Now excuse me while I go was my mouth out with tomato juice to get rid of the taste of that stupid potato bastard language."

"Okay, well, can you think of the items your brother took with him when he moved out?"

"Um, no? I don't know what he took, that's a weird question."

"Romano, wait." Hungary sounded fed up, but still keeping hold of her patience. "Just answer me this. Before you go…" She drew in a deep breath. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but you're into guys, right? Would you consider dating my friend, he's a bit of a prick but I'm guessing that's not a major issue for you, and I just thought if you were ever free, he's very attractive and he's in the area right now and—"

"WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?" He shouted.

"Jeez, I was just asking! So you're not into guys then?"

"I'm into minding my own fucking business!" He exclaimed. "What's the matter with you?! You call me at six in the morning and ask about my brother, then try to set me up on a date?!"

"I guess at least now you know I'm not a homophobe, right?" She laughed nervously. "I'm sorry, that was a bad move on my part. Enjoy your day."

"Enjoy MINDING YOUR OWN BUSINESS!" He yelled, about to slam the phone down.

"O-OKAY, I feel like I definitely could have done this better."

"NO SHIT!"

"Look, I just have one more question! And if you don't answer it I'll call you again and again until you do, so you may as well not hang up just yet!"

He sighed in utter exasperation. "What?"

"You've met Germany, haven't you?"

"Yes, I have, well, that's one question so I guess I'll talk to you again maybe sometime around NEVER. Well, goodbye then!"

"Ugh!" She sounded almost as exasperated as he felt. "Okay. You're right, you don't have to answer any more questions. You're so difficult to interrogate I'd have more luck doing it to myself, and I live in near-constant denial!"

"Thank you for the compliment! Kindly fuck off!"

"I will, have a nice day!"

"I won't, and I don't much mind if you don't either!"

" _Auf wiedersehen_." She annunciated clearly, having picked up on his dislike for the language.

"You're not even German!"

"I thought it would annoy you!"

"It did!"

"Goodbye then!"

"Bye!" They both slammed the phone down at the exact same time. A moment later he lifted his eyes until his gaze rested on the ceiling. There, as the sun rose a few minutes before seven, he accepted that he'd already had an incredibly crappy day. And it didn't look like it was about to get better.

"Romano, everything okay? I heard you yelling…" Veneziano walked in sleepily and yawned as he saw Romano standing next to the phone, still looking very irritated. "Please tell me you were yelling at somebody else, not just yourself."

"Of course I was yelling at somebody else!" Romano snapped. "Some weirdo just called me and I told them to go away."

"Oh. What time is it?" He asked as he stretched.

"Too early. I'm surprised you're awake, did I wake you up?"

"I don't think so, I woke up a few minutes ago and then heard you get upset with somebody."

"I wasn't upset!" Romano said defensively. "They were just really getting on my nerves." He huffed and looked away. "How'd you sleep?"

"I dunno. I had a weird dream."

"Do you remember it?" He asked apprehensively.

"No. I felt kind of sad for a minute, but I don't remember much about it." Veneziano yawned again. "How 'bout you? Who was that on the phone?"

"I slept fine. Just Hungary." He hoped Veneziano wouldn't ask any more questions.

"I am too, actually." He said, leaning against the door frame.

"No, the country. She called me." Romano corrected gently, leaving to go to the kitchen and start making their coffee.

"Oh, how is she?"

"Weird." Romano rolled his eyes.

"Sounds about right." Veneziano said cheerfully. "I can't really imagine you guys chatting together. But she's nice."

"She tried to set me up on a date with a stranger." Romano said incredulously.

"That's just her way of making friends, I'm sure she didn't mean anything by it."

"Eh, too early in the morning to be dealing with that for me." He said as he started brewing their espresso and Feliciano started taking out the ingredients to make some breakfast skewers.

"I guess she's not your type of person. But you seemed even more grumpy than usual on the phone this morning. Did something happen?" Feliciano asked as he heated up the stove.

"Nothing important. And I'm not grumpy. Do you want an espresso or a cappuccino?

"Cappuccino, _per favore_. Do we have any biscotti?"

"Of course, they're in that jar on top of the counter." Lovino looked up briefly and saw Feliciano reaching up and straining to reach the cookie jar, falling just a few inches short of success.

"Want me to get that for you?" He asked, hiding a grin. Feliciano slumped his shoulders and sighed dejectedly, giving up on reaching it himself.

"Yes, please." Lovino reached up easily and brought down the jar, offering it to Feliciano.

"Take any you want." Feliciano reached in and took out a few cookies, then set them on a tray next to the espresso maker. He went back to preparing their breakfast skewers at the stove as Lovino made their coffee. After a moment Lovino asked, "So, Feli, are you going to stay here today or…?" He trailed off.

"I said I would be back for training." He answered.

"Training? What are you training for?" Lovino asked skeptically.

"We do emergency drills, workouts, that kind of thing."

"'We?'"

"Germany, Japan, and I. We all do them together." Lovino tried to suppress his instant irritation at the word ' _Germany'_ , made even worse by the way his brother's voice cracked when he said it.

"Huh." He turned away so Feliciano wouldn't see his semi-voluntary glower. "Do you like doing this?"

"Well, not really. Ludwig works us really hard. But I like spending time with my friends." _His friends…_

"Hm. How hard does he work you, exactly?" Lovino asked with a slight frown.

"Oh, we get up early and train until lunch a lot. Then we do some more in the late afternoon. It's really hard usually, and I'd almost always rather be sleeping, but we all do it together so it's kind of fun sometimes." Veneziano hummed happily as he prepared their breakfast.

Romano had always been a naturally suspicious person. He knew this, and he knew some would call it a character flaw. He, however, called it a survival technique… And right now, he was suspicious. He wanted to see one of these training sessions. "Hey, Feli, I think I'll walk you back this morning. And maybe stay around for a while, see how you do things over there."

"Oh, that'll be fun," Veneziano enthused. "Stay for the day. You can meet Germany's brother."

"His brother? There are _two_ of them?" Romano asked in horror. _Just what the world needs, another macho potato country._

"Prussia," he explained. "He's much older, I think. They're kind of similar, but they act different. I don't know him that well, though."

"Oh. Yeah, I'll come with you."

"You'll have a good time, my friends are great." Feliciano assured. Lovino wasn't sure about that, but he knew he needed to come. He had to see what exactly was happening in that house.


	9. Chapter 9: All Along

**Chapter Nine: All Along**

Feliciano looked up from his breakfast and noticed that the sun had already risen. He glanced over at the clock in Lovino's living room and realized it was almost eight already. "Oh, I didn't realize it was so late! I promised Germany I'd be back in time for training, I mean I don't think he really expects me back but I said I would be and I don't..." _I don't want to disappoint him,_ was what he was about to say. "I don't want to be late, anyway."

Romano shrugged. "I'll walk you over soon." They finished eating and Veneziano went off and got dressed while Romano washed the dishes, then Veneziano packed up his overnight bag and slung it over his shoulder.

"Ready to go, Romano?"

"Yeah, yeah, let's go. You lead the way, I don't know how to get there," he said as they got their bikes from outside.

"No problem." Veneziano carefully maneuvered his bike onto the path, then started peddling once he knew Romano was behind him. Twenty minutes and only one or two falls later, they were within sight of the Axis house.

"Germany!" Italy beamed as he caught sight of his friend on the front lawn, along with Prussia and Japan. Germany looked up and caught sight of him and Romano as they approached. Italy immediately dismounted from his bike and raced up to Germany, then leaped up to give him a huge hug and kiss both his cheeks. "Germany, I'm so happy to see you, I feel like it's been forever since I've seen you even though it's only been like less than a day but I usually see you more often so it feels like a long time, you know? But I kind of missed you so it's really good to see you again and I hope you all had a good night without me, wait that sounds weird but you know what I mean—" _Take a breath, let him respond,_ a voice mentally chided him. He released his friend, still beaming in excitement.

"Good morning, Italy," Germany said with what felt like a smile. "It's good to see you too." He politely leaned down and kissed him back on each cheek, then stood up straight again and cleared his throat. Just then Italy took proper notice of Prussia.

"Oh, hey Prussia! Good to see you!" He ran over to his friend's brother and reached up to kiss him. "Wow, you're really tall too…" Prussia glanced down at him in surprise, not understanding.  
"Um, yeah, I guess, wh—Oh!" He broke off as Italy stretched up and kissed him happily. "Oh! Um, I—Yes, okay, I don't know how I feel about this, I sort of thought—well—" Prussia stammered on and Italy noticed that his pale face had flushed a deep pink, and he looked helplessly over at his brother before muttering something else and looking away, an embarrassed grin spreading hesitantly across his face.

Italy laughed and turned to Japan, who nodded in greeting. "Good morning, Italy-kun, ahh—!" He cut off with a cry of confusion as Italy kissed him in greeting as well.

"Oh, that's right, I forgot you don't do that, sorry!" Italy winced away awkwardly. "It's good to see you, Japan."

"Y-you as well, Italy-kun." Japan said flusteredly. "I am still not used to your ways…"

"Italy," Prussia spoke up spontaneously. "Um, I was wondering—"

Italy turned to face him again. "Yes?"

"Uh, I was thinking, I'm awesome and you're really cute, and I feel like we've gotten close pretty quickly, I don't know, would you like to go out with me sometime?" He shrugged and grinned shyly.

Feliciano didn't understand at first. Then he giggled. "Oh, that's very sweet of you, no thank you though, it's nothing personal, but I'm still holding out for somebody else." He tried very hard to maintain eye contact with Gilbert and not completely give himself away. "You're very good company, but I guess you could say you're not exactly my type. I'm really happy we're friends, though!" He smiled and gave Gilbert a platonic hug from one side.

"O-oh, okay. Me too." Gilbert's face flushed again and he awkwardly patted him on the back before breaking away, looking utterly confused. Germany stared at him in a mixture of shock and disgust.

"Brother, what the hell was that?" He demanded.

"What?! snapped defensively, then retorted something long and German that Feliciano couldn't catch.

"So? It's weird!" Ludwig retorted in English before finishing whatever he was about to say in German.

"Oh, shut up, it's been a weird week okay?" Gilbert sighed. Ludwig just sighed as if in exhaustion. Just then Lovino reached them and stood protectively next to his brother.

"Oh, guys! I have to introduce you to my brother! Germany's met him already, haven't you? Romano, say hello!" Italy nudged him.

" _Ciao_ , bastards."

"That's a little rude, but then again he's usually worse so I guess—" Italy shrugged and turned back to his brother. "Well, Romano, you know Germany, of course, and Japan you might have met, I'm not sure, but you probably don't know Prussia, because I didn't until like a couple of days ago, but yeah, that's him. He likes birds, oh and he's very open about his love life, which is super complicated by the way, and he just called me cute so that was nice, even though I see him as more of a friend it was still sweet and he's, what is it? Awesome, right?" Italy looked at Prussia to confirm.

"Of course, I'm awesome." He agreed. Germany rolled his eyes good-naturedly and greeted Romano.

" _Guten tag,_ South Italy." He nodded politely. _Oh, that's awkward…_ He saw his brother clench his teeth in irritation and quickly tried to diffuse the attention.

"Yeah, um," He tried to squeeze his brother's wrist without drawing too much attention to it. He couldn't help but notice that his brother had balled his fists and was practically shaking. _Oh, come on, Lovino, we've been here all of about five minutes. How angry can he possibly be already? Why is he so angry all the time, anyway?_ "Well, it's very good to see you all again even though we haven't been apart for long. Isn't it about time for training now?"

Romano scowled and addressed his brother in Italian, not restraining his hand gestures either. "Feli, why do you hang out with these people?! They're so weird, did that freaky pale bastard just make a pass at you? What the fuck is wrong with that guy?!"

Feliciano's face flushed in embarrassment. "Romano!" He snapped in reproach and mortification, before realizing to his relief that his friends spoke barely any Italian, and certainly not those particular words. Then he hissed back to him in hushed Italian, speaking mostly in gestures as his agitation grew worse.

"Would you stop being such a dick for just one second?!" He asked, still smiling widely as he resisted a sudden urge to slap someone in the face. He must have inherited it from wherever Lovino got it from too, but his 'nice' gene was much more dominant. "One second, Lovino, that's all I ask of you!" Lovino shook his head. "Are you serious?!" He nodded. "Lovino! Come on! These guys are my friends, they're actually really nice once you get to know them, would you please just give them a chance?"

"Why should I do that? I know them already."  
"No, you don't! You only met Gilbert a second ago!" Gilbert looked up at the mention of his name. Feliciano switched to English as he realized Gilbert would notice if they kept talking about him. "Sorry Gilbert, that's, um, that means something different in Italian? Yes, that makes sense. Right, we weren't talking about you, because that would be _really rude!_ " He enunciated clearly for the benefit of everyone, because it seemed as though none of them understood this particular social rule. Ludwig and Gilbert had the grace and sense to look mildly guilty, and Feliciano turned back to his brother and addressed him again in Italian. "Come on, what's your problem, anyway? Why are you so angry all the time?"

Lovino scowled, suddenly evasive. "That creepy potato bastard just asked you out! Doesn't that bother you?"

"No, actually, it doesn't, because he did it respectfully enough and I thought it was sweet of him to call me cute, even though I don't feel that way about him! Plus, I'm pretty sure it was just a superficial, spur-of-the-moment thing because he hasn't expressed interest before. Besides which, he's clearly a very lonely man, which is why I tried to be gentle with him! It's hard out there, for some people, even if they're attractive! Just let him be, it's none of our business anyway."

"That's not the only problem, though!" Lovino snapped, looking exasperated. "Doesn't it bother you to be around these guys who are obviously trying to take advantage of you?"

"No, they're not!" Feliciano snapped back. "You're so suspicious, what have they done to make you think this?"

"They're clearly attracted to you, that one just asked you out, for fuck's sake, what more evidence do you need?"

"Come on, Lovino, just because he asked me out and called me cute doesn't mean he's trying to take advantage of me, he's in love with at least one, possibly two or even more other people and he's generally a really nice guy and you should give him a chance! And what do you mean 'they'? Gilbert, I give you, but Kiku's definitely not attracted to me and Ludwig's not even attracted to my sex, as far as I know, so—" He broke off before his voice trembled and he gave himself away.

"Wow, you really are naive. Why'd you turn Gilbert down then, if he's such a great guy?" Lovino asked, like he was issuing a challenge.

"Because—" _Because I'm still in love with Holy Roman Empire!_ The sudden thought made his stomach writhe in despair. "Because—" _Because I'm in love with_ — "Because I like somebody else! It wouldn't be fair to him!"

Lovino shook his head in utter exasperation. He knew what he meant. "Whatever, Feli."

"Well, anyway, now that we've cleared that up, let's go train, does that sound like a good plan?" Italy said over-brightly in English to the whole group.

Germany looked surprised but pleased, and nodded. "Yes, let's go." Italy skipped at his friend's side as they made their way to the training yard. They approached the track first. "Alright, we're going to start with laps, like always. Prussia, South Italy, are you going to run them with us?"

"Yeah, no thanks, running is for macho potatoes."

"The Awesome Prussia is faster than all of you. But only because I stay in shape. Of course I'll run." Prussia grinned and started stretching to warm up.

"You see my point." He gestured at Prussia.

"Ah, come on, Romano, it's not that bad if we all do it, and after we finish and then go to the gym we get to eat lunch." Italy stretched a bit and then walked over to the starting line.

"Fine, whatever, if this is what you guys do every day." Romano sighed and joined him. Germany, Prussia, and Japan all took their places in their own lanes.

"Alright, on your marks!" They all crouched down, except Italy and Romano, who hadn't yet realized they were about to start. "Get set!" Germany called, shooting them a look.

"Oh, right!" Italy crouched down with one leg behind him in a clumsy imitation of Germany's stance, ready to start.

"Go!"

"Huh?" Romano had only just realized they had started and ran after them. Prussia quickly took the lead, followed a few feet behind by Germany who was shouting at him for being a showoff. Japan was running easily at a slower pace; he was still going much faster than Italy, in his flailing jog, and Romano, who was panting several yards behind him and clutching his side by the end of the first quarter-lap. Italy saw him as he turned the corner, and he could empathize. He was panting too, but at least he was used to this.

"Hey, Germany!" He called to his friend, who was already three quarters of the way through the first lap, in hot pursuit of his brother. He looked up.

" _Ja?"_

"How long are we going to run today?"

Germany surveyed the other runners, seeming to make calculations in the moment as he completed his lap. His eyes rested briefly on Romano, definitely straggling now. "Ten laps!" They all picked up their pace a bit.

Prussia sprinted, passing everyone else a second time until he was actually approaching Germany from behind. "Come on, brother, you're getting slower without me!"

"I am not!" He protested. "You're just being a showoff, as always! Slow down, idiot, or are you trying to pull a muscle?"

"Yeah, because I'm awesome! Why wouldn't I show it? And I won't pull a muscle, look how awesome I am at running!"

"Awesome, more like overcompensating, what's up with your gait? Limp much lately, or did you hurt yourself?"

"Ah, shut up, I didn't stretch right, and I'm still faster than you!" Now that Italy looked, Prussia was definitely a little unbalanced. He wouldn't have noticed on his own, but he could see it once it was pointed out. A little limp on the left side, and he set his foot down too quickly, almost like he had a pain in his side. _Huh, I wonder if he's got a cramp._ After Germany drew attention to it, he visibly altered his steps, leaning far to the right to compensate. _He really shouldn't, he looks like he's been punched in the stomach. He must have a pain on his left side._

By now Germany and the rest had caught up to him somewhat, and a few laps later Prussia and Germany were keeping pace with each other, with Japan just behind them. Italy and Romano were about a lap behind, very much running out of stamina. "Pick up the pace, only one more lap!" Germany called.

A quarter-lap from the finish, Prussia sprinted ahead and leaped triumphantly over the line well ahead of his brother and everyone else. "HA! I told you, I'm awesome! Nobody's faster than— _Ow!_ " He broke off and doubled over, dragging himself to the nearby bench and pouring himself a cup of water from their water station.

Germany crossed the finish line easily and didn't even break his pace as he finished, jogging over to the station. "You alright there?" Italy heard him ask. A moment later Japan crossed this finish line, while Italy was still half a lap away.

He sighed internally and pushed on despite his burning lungs before collapsing about three yards from the end. "I can't run anymore!" He protested, lying on his stomach. "I'm too tired!"

"Come on, Italy, you're only a few meters from being finished, now get up!" Germany barked. Italy sighed and pushed himself up onto his forearms.

"My legs hurt!"

"You're so lazy sometimes, honestly." Germany jogged up to him and pulled him up, gently but firmly, by the arm. He dragged himself to his feet and held his friend's hand as he was pulled to the end. "There, now you're finished and I don't care if you lie on the ground. Do as you please." Germany let him go and sat down on the bench next to Prussia, who was covertly coughing and pouring himself some more water.

On the track, Romano still hadn't finished his laps. "Oh, so he lies down and you pick him up? Is that how it works? Will someone carry me the rest of the way then?" He flopped down onto the track on his side.

"Oh, get up! I swear, you're all birds of a feather!" Ludwig shouted, standing up. "Get up and finish!"

"That's what she said*." Gilbert muttered. Feliciano giggled and quickly covered his mouth as Ludwig turned around.

"What?"

"Nothing. I was about to call you out for using a bird-related expression."

"Gilbird's not even here." Ludwig rolled his eyes. "Plus, 'bird of a feather' isn't offensive."

"Speak for yourself."

"Someone carry me!" Lovino called, still sprawled on his side across the track. Feliciano bit back another giggle as Ludwig shouted at him until Lovino finally pushed himself up and staggered listlessly to the finish line, cursing in multiple languages all the way. "Stupid macho potato bastard exercise!"

Gilbert snickered as Lovino finally collapsed on the bench next to them Feliciano, carefully avoiding any kind of contact with either Gilbert or Ludwig. Kiku's gaze followed his movements vaguely as he stood by the water station. "He's much less friendly than you." Gilbert remarked to Feliciano.

"Yes, that's a character trait. It's easier to pretend it's endearing sometimes." He shrugged and grabbed himself a cup of water. He tipped the cup back and took a huge gulp, even though it was so icy it gave him a headache.

"Hey, I know he's a bit of a jerk, no offence or anything, but is he single?" The question caught him by surprise, so much so that he gasped mid-gulp and spluttered ice water several feet ahead of him onto the ground. He gasped again and started choking, already laughing so hard at the meer question, and it wasn't helped by the sudden outbursts from everyone else who had overheard it; Lovino was shouting very rudely and and moved several yards away from him; Kiku turned his head in surprise, and Ludwig was also shouting, asking what the fuck was wrong with him.

"Seriously, _Bruder,_ what's happening with you today?!"

"I don't know, I just thought I would ask!"

"Stop asking!" Ludwig and Lovino both shouted in unison.

"Okay! Fine! Sorry, whatever! Excuse me for trying to branch out a little!"

"You have too many lovers as it is!"

"HOW EXACTLY IS ZERO IN OVER A CENTURY 'TOO MANY'?!"

"THAT'S WAY MORE THAN THE REST OF US HAVE!"

"HOW DO YOU HAVE NEGATIVE LOVERS?"

"THEY DIED!" Feliciano finally recovered himself enough to speak.

"NO THEY DIDN—" Gilbert clamped a hand over his mouth as everyone stared at him. Lovino stopped shouting and just froze for a second, then gave Gilbert a glare sharper than a knife and harder than a diamond, full of so much loathing it gave Feliciano chills. Everyone else was staring at him too. "I mean…" He said weakly. "Um… I forgot!" He suddenly coughed, and through the cough one could almost catch the words _Just like you_. Almost. Everyone was left looking vaguely uncomfortable and Feliciano felt anxiously uncomprehending, but he tried to alleviate the mood.

"Hey guys, why don't we go let our muscles rest for a bit and go out onto the grounds? It's really pretty outside today." The others nodded assent, quickly jumping on the new subject.

" _Ja,_ that's a good idea, Italy. We can afford to take a break for now." Germany stretched and then slipped on his dark green jacket, which had been lying neatly folded by the water cooler while he was running. Italy smiled at him. Germany glanced around nervously, then, hesitantly, he smiled back. Italy beamed and felt warmth spread through his chest at the sight, already forgetting the argument from a moment ago. A sudden idea struck him.

"Oh! I should go get my paints! I left them on the patio yesterday, I'll get them and then I'll draw while we relax!"

"Oh, that is a good idea. Would you please get mine as well?" Japan said, looking over. "I think I would like to draw outside for a while too."

"Okay!" Feliciano skipped back up to the house, and quickly retrieved their art supplies. Five minutes later he returned and handed Japan his. He tucked his own paints and sketchpad under one arm and grabbed Ludwig's hand with the other. "Come on, let's go." They walked together past the track and out onto the vast expanse of grass, dotted with occasional trees, that surrounded the Axis house. They all made themselves comfortable, and Feliciano right between Kiku and Ludwig and the others sitting off in different directions. Kiku and Felicano set up their sketchpads; Kiku was dabbing at a watercolor landscape, while Feliciano started an oil painting.

Feliciano glanced over at Kiku's painting and gasped in admiration. "That's really cool, Kiku!"

"Thank you, Italy-kun." Kiku's face flushed slightly. "I like yours too. It's interesting how although we come from very different cultures, we both love to draw and paint." He mused aloud as he lightly dabbed at water on his paper pad.

"That's true. We are all different, but maybe in some ways we're sort of the same too." Feliciano sighed and hummed cheerfully as he drew. "You know, I think everyone might be happier if they spent more time drawing. I know it always makes me happy."

"Maybe. Although artists are quick to compare themselves with one another." Japan paused and set his brush down.

"It's nice to draw with someone else. Germany, do you like to draw?" Italy asked. "If you do, maybe we could do it together sometime."

"I-I don't know." Germany shrugged.

"Would you like to try?" Italy smiled invitingly and flicked to a new page in his sketchpad.

"Oh, I-I couldn't. I don't know what I would draw." Germany's face reddened and he looked away.

"Whatever you want! Here, let's just draw some lines." Feliciano handed him a brush and took his hand in his own. He moved their hands gently along the page. Ludwig's hand shook slightly at his touch, but Feliciano moved closer to him and helped him with his brushstrokes. The feeling was so intimate and so familiar, and it felt right somehow. He was happy, holding Ludwig's hand and painting with him, happy in a way he hadn't been for… Centuries. Centuries of feeling alone and desolate and full of despair were reversed in the blink of an eye, if only for a few moments while they were painting.

The feeling that replaced his loneliness wasn't one he could identify, but it clung to him long after they had finished painting.

* * *

 _*I have regrets, but I finished this chapter, dang it. It may have taken me almost a month to come up with that fricking "That's what she said" joke, but I got up and finished._

 _^ that's what he said._

 _I regret many things._


	10. Chapter 10: Time Stands Still

**Chapter Ten: Time Stands Still**

Elizaveta was couldn't remember his name. She couldn't remember his name, but she remembered so much else, she thought his name would just come back naturally. But she thought and thought back over all those years, and she still couldn't for the life of her remember the most important details. What was his name? What language did he speak? Where did he go? How did he come? How long was he here? What did he look like, even, behind the stark black clothing? Was he blond? Was he tall? No, he couldn't have been very tall. Not much taller than Feli had been. What else was there about him?

She tried to remember every detail she could. Why couldn't she remember? She had to remember. No one else there paid proper attention.

She sighed, wishing she had someone to talk to about this who was _here_ , right now. She didn't dare disturb Roderich while he was composing, and she didn't think she had the energy to talk to him. Or Gilbert, either.

Besides which, she had already said goodbye to him for today. She couldn't call him again. Incoming calls were one thing, _outgoing_ calls, however, were more suspicious. Though there wasn't anything to be suspicious of, of course. Just a few frequent calls between close friends who lived far apart. And so she would tell herself, and so she would tell anyone else who asked.

Elizaveta yawned looked around the empty study Roderich had given her. She spent most of her time in here. Often this was because she was on the phone, talking to Gilbert. But that wasn't the only thing she did. She had books in here. Books to read, and some journals as well. They weren't all hers, but she'd read them all. And she used to keep her clothes here before she and Roderich were married and most of her things were moved to their master bedroom. Since then all of her dresses were moved to that big adjoining closet, and the only clothes that remained here were her very oldest ones, tucked into a box and hidden away on the very top section of the wardrobe. She had no idea why she kept them, and she hadn't worn them in years, but for some reason, she had never been able to bear the idea of throwing them away.

They were her old training clothes, from centuries ago, long before she met Roderich. Back when Gilbert was her best friend, even though they fought often, and he saw her only as a boy. Back when she was a boy. That thought made her feel an involuntary squeeze in her chest, and she tried her best to attribute it to the corset she was wearing. That was part of it, she was sure.

The study was draped in darkness now, as the night drew closer, and with it, her worsening confusion. She was cold, too. The frilly white window drapes fluttered in the chilly breeze coming in from outside.

 _There is a jacket with my old clothes._ The thought took her by surprise, and her reaction was a moment too late. _...No! I can't get that, it's very old and it isn't even mine. Besides, what if Roderich saw me wearing it?_

She rubbed her hands up her arms to brush away the brisk night air and tried to brush away the intrusive thought along with it. But she couldn't just forget what she had thought. And she was suddenly almost overcome with a longing to get the jacket from the back of the wardrobe and put it on.

Almost before she realized what she was doing, she had crossed the room and opened the wardrobe door, careful not to make a sound. She pushed the aside the heavy winter coats that were kept here all year and reached toward the back of the wardrobe, feeling with one hand for the jacket and keeping her eyes focused on the door, attentive to any out-of-place movement. Her fingers found the old fabric, and she froze. Downstairs, as she strained her ears, she heard only silence, and then a moment later a few bars of Mozart. _He's given up the composing for now,_ she thought, reasoning that she had at least an hour or two yet before he decided to come to bed. Elizaveta would be alone for some time. And she was cold.

Careful not to make a sound, she pulled the jacket off its hanger and slipped it out of the wardrobe. The rich purple fabric was still vaguely visible, even in the dim light, and just touching it made her feel a swell of longing and a rush of memory. Almost before she knew what she was doing, she had slipped it on. It fell past her knees, clinging to her shoulders, and the sleeves flapped just a bit too long around her hands.

There was a mirror on the inside of the wardrobe door. Her figure was outlined clearly, the one she always saw, and the one she thought should be there, both shown at the same time. Her long skirts and low heels, white apron, pronounced curves and narrow-waisted corset; her long hair, adorned thoughtfully with a flower. His jacket, it was thin. It wasn't made for winter; more to look elegant than to be practical. Even so, just the feel of it against her skin made her warm all over, and she was lost in a sea of guilt and despair and hope and happy memories.

 _Time stood still. Elizaveta, then simply Hungary, was lying breathless on the ground, hoping her friend might help her. But he was transfixed, not by her wounds, but by something else entirely. She followed his gaze, and a moment later felt a rush of shame. She tried to shrug it off and get them out of the situation, but she couldn't convince him. There was no way for him to pretend this was something other than what it was. His expression confirmed what she herself recently had thought._

 _She smiled helplessly. "Look, I know this makes things… Different. But I still need help…" She was still injured. She was still bleeding and helpless._

" _I can't help you the way I'd help another boy. It isn't right." Prussia finally turned his head away and closed his eyes. "I don't know if we can even be friends anymore."_

" _Please, this doesn't have to change anything…"_

" _But it does. This is different. We're different now." She didn't know how to respond to that; it felt true. But she didn't want her best friend to leave just because she may have been born a girl._

" _You're right." She said at last. "I'm not a boy. It's time I admit that and grow up, start acting like a fricking lady for a change!" She pushed herself up into a sitting position with a small cry of pain. Prussia's gaze was again drawn to the gash in her shirt, and she pulled the fabric back over herself, because ladies were supposed to be modest, and he was not supposed to stare._

" _I'm sorry." He said, looking away as he noticed her action. He stood up and turned around._

" _Wait! Don't just leave me here!" She cried, then broke off as she realized that he wasn't walking away. He stood still, politely looking away from her, and removed his long purple jacket. "What…? What are you…?"_

" _You need something to cover yourself and your wounds. Take it," he said, throwing his jacket over her like a blanket. "And take care of yourself, Hungary." He turned around to look at her again._

" _I guess I need a new name now. I can't just be 'Hungary'." She wrapped the jacket close around her and covered her wounds._

" _Tell me when you choose one." He smiled faintly and turned to walk away._

" _Gilbert!" She called in a last desperate attempt to get him to stay._

"Ja?" _He inclined his head, and her hopeful imagination thought it saw a flicker of hope pass across his face. She didn't know what she wanted to say to him, but she wasn't ready to let him go. Not yet. She had to know they would still be friends after this._

" _Call me Elizaveta." She smiled._

" _Okay, Elizaveta. Farewell,_ Liz." _He grinned, one last smile that made her sure that even if things were different, no matter what happened in the future, they would remain friends. An unspoken promise._

He never broke it.

She owed it to her friend forever, her closest confident, to remember this. She had to remember who the boy was. She had to figure all of this out. She knew she could.

Hungary emerged from her memory trance and took a final look at herself in the mirror. She felt a deep shiver and fastened the clasps of the jacket, all the way down to below her waist. When she looked up again, there was only one silhouette, the one she always expected to see but hadn't glimpsed for centuries. And though she still knew that it was only an illusion, and that she would probably never look this way again, for the moment, it was perfect. So perfect, she actually felt like she could think, and like she would be able to remember something.

Liz pulled the jacket close and sat down at her desk. She turned on a lamp so she'd actually be able to see properly and flicked through the notes she had taken during her earlier conversation with Gilbert. There was a drawing of a key, a doodle of a rectangle and a stick, and some illegible note she'd scribbled to herself about the Italian inscription. It all seemed so clear when Gilbert told her what he'd seen, but now…

 _I have a key like this._ She studied the drawing. _I don't know where it's from or what it's for, but I have a key like this. Where is it?_ She suddenly remembered; it was in her bedroom. Roderich's bedroom, to be more accurate. _Where did that key come from?_ She had to go see it. Liz had no idea what it could unlock, but she was fairly certain that it wasn't hers. How it came to reside listlessly in her jewelry box, she didn't know, but she had to go find it. She needed to follow up any flimsy lead she could. For Ludwig and Feliciano. For Gilbert.

Cautiously, pulling the jacket tightly around her as if for protection, Liz turned the handle on the door and crept noiselessly down the dim hallway to their bedroom. She was careful to listen for the piano, as she wasn't keen to be found by Roderich in a very recognizable jacket with... _Water_ streaked down her face. She made it all the way to the bedroom, slipped inside among the shadows, and hurried to her nightstand, feeling suddenly uneasy as the music trailed off. The music stopped. She stopped. _Does that mean he's coming to bed?_ She looked down at herself and flushed with guilt. _Shit!_ Her heart raced and her eyes flicked all around the room, looking for somewhere she could deposit the jacket very quickly if she heard Roderich coming upstairs. But a moment later, she jumped as a few hassled-sounding bars of Beethoven made her realize two things: One, that she didn't need to worry about him coming upstairs anytime soon, and two, that he was probably in a foul temper.

Liz exhaled shakily and continued toward her jewelry box, hoping that was indeed where the key was. Her hands found it in the dark, and she pulled open a few drawers and fumbled uncertainly, pricking her fingers on earrings, brooches, and what she could only assume were hair clips. Just as she was starting to think maybe it wasn't here after all, she found another drawer at the base of the box and pulled it open. Her hands ran over mysterious odds and ends before she found something jagged and metal. She dragged it out and brought it over to the window to see it better. A skeleton key glinted in the moonlight, one very similar to the clumsy sketch she'd drawn at Gilbert's description, but the teeth looked a bit different. As they should be, she still didn't quite know what she was doing, but she took the key back to her study and sat down to work out what else she could investigate.

There didn't seem to be much else she could do with what she had. She didn't know what the key did. She didn't know what the symbols meant, or if she'd even drawn them correctly. But she had to figure out something, anything. A sudden thought hit her. _Maybe there's something in Italy's old room._ Yes, there had to be. It felt like a lead, anyway.

Hungary stood up and gathered the key and the pieces of paper into her jacket pockets, then walked down the hall. It had been years since Italy lived there, but no one else had moved in since. His room was just empty space now, as far as she knew. But he'd left in a hurry; maybe there were a few things he'd left behind. Maybe they'd give her a few more clues.

Once again, she crept out into the hall, this time heading in the opposite direction. She tiptoed down the stairs to the old servant's quarters, carefully avoiding the main area of the house where she could still hear Austria venting his vexation at the piano. Hungary made her way to Italy's old room and stepped inside. A high window on the back wall spilled moonlight into the room, which was rather bare. The old cot he used to sleep in was still here, and there was a threadbare carpet on the floor, but other than that, it seemed devoid of anything that would suggest someone had lived here. Hungary walked further into the room. She examined the walls, marked with the occasional scratch or paint splatter, courtesy of their former resident; she ran a hand along the bed, the neatly made sheets that hadn't been slept in for ages, and suddenly missed Italy more than she had for years. He'd been like a little brother to her, long ago. But she hadn't even spoken to him in years. The house was lonelier now. Ever since whoever-he-was left, and Prussia stopped visiting as often, and then Italy left too, she felt like there was hardly anyone left to talk to.

There obviously wasn't anything useful to her in here. Liz couldn't help lingering for a while, though. She walked absentmindedly around the room, her heels pacing a weary circle as she was enveloped in some unfathomable wistfulness. More water streaked down her face. She didn't notice. She was caught up in memories again, brought on both by the jacket and the room. Her heels clicked on the hardwood floor and slid slightly on the carpet, and without realizing her realizing, it had come out of place. _Click, ssh, click, ssh, click,_ _ **clunk**_.

Liz stopped, jolted out of her reverie, and looked down at the hardwood floor in surprise. _What was that?_ The carpet had slid almost a meter sideways, revealing the hardwood floor underneath. She tapped the floor with her heel. _Clunk._ She took a step back and did the same thing. _Click._ She repeated the action in both places a few more times. _Clunkclickclunkclickclunkclick clunk._

She knelt down and examined the floorboards. _What's this?_ There was a tiny black crack running between two boards, slightly larger than the rest, and when she knocked the floor on either side of it, the sound was different. _Feli had a secret compartment in his floor!_

Liz tried to pry the boards up with her hands, but her nails were too short. She sat up and stared at the boards in concentration. Then, suddenly, she took out her hair clip. It was a large flower, with a long metal clip just thin enough to slip through the gap in the floorboards. She wedged it in and pried up one of the boards, then pushed away a few more. She reached down into the gap and her hands found some kind of wooden box a few inches down. Liz pulled it out, wiped off the dust, and set it down next to her in the light from the window to examine it.

It wasn't large; she could have set it in her lap fairly easily, and it wasn't particularly heavy, but there was a large iron lock set on the side of the box. She leaned down closer to it and realized that it was made for a skeleton key. _No way. Was this Feliciano's key?_ She pulled it out of her pocket. _Could it really be that simple?_ Liz clicked the key into the lock. It fit perfectly. She turned it, and it crunched painfully before the lock broke and the box popped open, scattering dust everywhere. Liz coughed and waved it away, then peered at the contents.

There were a few loose papers and a sheaf of ancient-looking parchments, which she unbound and held up to the moonlight. They were covered with lines and lines of writing, none of which she could make out in the dark. Upon even closer inspection, she wasn't sure what language they were written in. She set them down and took out the loose papers. At first they appeared to be blank. Then she turned them over and gasped.

They were sketches. Dozens of beautiful sketches, in various degrees of completion. Some lined, some full bodies, some obviously incomplete but still stunningly realistic. All of the same person. The same person, she recognized him immediately; swathes of dark clothing, straight blond hair, and those bright blue eyes. They weren't colored, but she knew they were blue. She remembered it so clearly now, they were the brightest, most intense blue eyes she'd ever seen. It used to make her shiver when she caught him staring off into the distance.

There were words scrawled lovingly in faded ink alongside the sketches. Italian words. She tried to make them out and remember any Italian she knew. On every page was the same affectionate inscription. _Sacro Romano Impero, Il mio amore per sempre._

The first part was obviously a name. Then _mio amore_ was 'my love,' right? She stared at the words for a few more seconds before the translation clicked, just as she remembered the name she'd been trying to recall all day. _Holy Roman Empire, my love forever._


	11. Chapter 11: Every Day

**Chapter Eleven: Every Day**

Love was in the air. France could always tell. It hadn't quite acquiesced yet, but he could sense it. Miles away, his fellow nations were in unrequited romantic torment. No one had told him anything, but he had known for centuries that this was coming. His friend wasn't as discreet as he thought, and his poor little _frère*_ wasn't either. He'd expected this for years. He knew he couldn't outright day all he knew, but he could make them realize for themselves, maybe. So, it didn't come as much of a shock when the phone rang and it was his cute little brother with quite a few questions.

"France? Is now a good time?" Italy's voice trembled musically down the line, and France instantly inferred the reason for his call.

"Italy, _mon Cher**_ , it's been ages, why don't you ever call me these days?" He smiled radiantly.

"Um, well, you kind of creep me out, but I wanted to ask you some things so I called..."

"Of course, you can ask me anything, _cherí***._ What is it? Girl trouble? Boy trouble? Other trouble?" He only asked to feign innocence in the spirit of politeness; he knew exactly what the problem was.

"Kind of, all of them? But like, not with me, all of it. Um, France?"

"Oui, _mon Cher_ , I am listening, tell me what's up!" He tried to keep his patience, knowing that Italy might take a while to get to the point.

"France, I have a lot of questions. I didn't know who else to ask, and you know a lot about these things and you're the one who told me..." He broke off tremulously. "I need to know. I need you to tell me..." He broke off again, and France waited expectantly without moving a muscle. "What happened to Holy Roman Empire?"

"Italy, of _all_ the questions! Are you sure?!" He had to make sure he was ready to think of this for himself.

"I'm sorry, but I need to know! Even if it upsets me."

France sighed, and when he answered, his voice was somber. "Holy Roman Empire is no more." There was a choking little gasp, and France half expected Italy to hang up the phone, but he didn't.

"I know. You told me that. But... What... Actually... Happened to him?"

"He was lost after many battles. The Holy Roman Empire was never seen again." His words were chosen with care, and Italy, uncharacteristically attentive, picked up on them.

"But... Did he... Die?"

"That's a complicated question." France said evasively, hoping to prod Italy into asking just the right questions.

"Right. So... Did he?"

"I told you, after the battles I never saw the Holy Roman Empire again. The nation dissolved." _The nation. The empire. Come on, Feli, you're so close!_

"And then what happened?" _Yes!_ The question he'd never asked before! The question he'd never had answered! Francis nearly jumped for joy before he forced himself to calm down and give his sweet little _frère_ the final push he needed to understand.

"I don't know, Feli. The nation dissolved. And then what happened?"

"I'm asking you."

"And I'm asking you." He parried.

"I don't know."

"Nor can I tell you."

"What does that mean?"

"You already know." Silence.

" _Ciao_ , Francis." _I guess that's as far as we're going to get._

" _Au revoir_ , Feliciano." _Auf Wiedersehen._

* * *

Ludwig let out a shaky breath as soon as Feliciano disappeared into his own room for the afternoon.

"Y' alright?" Gilbert looked over. "Your face looks kinda red."

" _Halt die Klappe****!"_ He snapped before sitting down. "It is not!"

" _Ja,_ it is, and don't talk to your awesome brother that way."

"No I'm not—I mean _I'm_ not!"

"You said 'I'm' again, what are you doing?" Gilbert definitely seemed suspicious now.

"N-nothing!" _I'm just making myself look guiltier, aren't I? Maybe I should just tell him… I mean, I don't think he'd react badly… He is my brother, after all, and it's not like he's never looked at the same sex… Maybe he can help me. He'll be able to tell me if it's okay or if I'm being weird._ He sighed and sat down across from his brother in the sitting room. "Gilbert," he began nervously. "I've been having really strange thoughts lately."

Gilbert looked nonplussed, but fortunately not yet disturbed. "Like?"

"Um… I think I like someone."

"Like, like sexually?"  
" _Nein,_ you perverted ass!" He exclaimed defensively. "Like, romantically! But I feel weird about it because I've never liked someone like this before!" He was starting to regret this decision, but he still needed answers to his burdensome awkward questions, and he didn't know who else he knew well enough to turn to.

"Wait, like like how? Someone like how?" Prussia still didn't seem to be totally sure of what he was getting at, although Germany thought he already knew. Maybe he just didn't want to be presumptuous in case he had drawn the wrong conclusion. Even so, did he have to make him spell it out like this? His stomach squirmed as he tried to explain the next part of what he was trying to say.

"Like… I said I used to like a girl, once, a really really long time ago, but I don't remember her, but now I feel like I like someone else—"

"If you say 'like' one more time in that sentence—" Prussia interrupted. Germany huffed.

"Fine, I think I'm _attracted_ , (is that the right word?) to somebody else, somebody I didn't think I would be attracted to because they're not the type of person I was attracted to before." Prussia's face cleared in realization.

"Ohhhh, I see." He nodded. "So you like a guy." Germany jumped as he said it.

"Wh—I— No! I mean, yes, but I didn't expect you to understand so quick! Isn't it weird?"

"What do you mean? Why would it be weird?" Only at that did Prussia seem properly bemused.  
"Uh, I don't know, I just thought…" He trailed off. "I mean, I've never felt this way before. But I can't stop thinking about him."

"Who is it?" Germany recoiled. "Oh, come on, you can't just tell me you have a crush on a guy and then not tell me who it is! I mean, I have an idea, but you have to say it yourself." Prussia prodded.

"Okay… It's…" He broke off as he realized Prussia's muscles were tense and he was holding his breath. " _Mein Gott, bruder,_ you already know what I'm about to say!"  
"Just say it!" He hissed.

"Fine!" He snapped, and took a deep breath. "I think I'm in love with Feliciano Vargas!" He spoke much louder than he meant to. There was a loud gasp, a shriek, a thump, and the sound of what they could only assume was Italian cursing.

" _Scheisse!"_ Both brothers exclaimed at once. Ludwig started hyperventilating. " _Scheiße!_ Did he hear us? Is he still there?" He jumped up and scrambled back against the wall.

"I don't know!" Gilbert hissed. They listened for a moment and heard muffled sniffing and a hastily silenced sob. Gilbert hesitantly ventured out into the hall and peeked around.

"Did he hear me?" Ludwig asked in trepidation.

"Feli!" Gilbert called out. "You okay?"

"I'm Lovino, you stupid potato bastard!" There was another muffled sob.

"Oh shit. Sorry! Are you okay there? Oh, hey, um, did you happen to hear what we were talking about just now or—" He turned back to Ludwig and hissed, "What do we want him to do? Do we tell him to forget it?"

"Uh, yeah, I heard. I'm not hurt. Not any more than usual just from being near you both." The next sentence was gratingly bitter. "I knew anyway."

"Right, um, that's a bit rude but I wanted to ask… Wait, could you… Give us a sec?"  
"Take all the time you need." There was another muffled sobbing sound.

"He hates me!" Ludwig whispered in terror. "This is almost worse than Feli finding out!"

"I don't see how this could be worse than that, but okay. What do I tell him?"

"That I'm sorry and please not to tell his brother?"

"That he's sorry and please not to tell your brother!" Gilbert repeated. "That's what Ludwig wants to tell you. Like, don't tell him what you heard, if that's cool with you?"

"Oh, you don't have to worry about that." Lovino coughed, and from the noise, it sounded like he was dragging himself to his feet. "I'm not gonna tell him."

"Are you sure?"

"I think I would _know_ if I was gonna tell him. How's this—I promise not to tell him, as long as your brother promises not to tell him either. Stay away. Don't let him get too attached. _Capire*****?_ "

Prussia scowled at him. "That's ridiculous, what's it to you anyway?"

"I'm just here to protect my brother."

"Well, that's an absurd request."

"Just agree." Ludwig whispered.

" _Nein!_ " Gilbert protested. "He's being obnoxious, he can't decide what you're allowed to say to his brother."

"Gilbert, just agree, please." As ashamed as he was to admit it, he was legitimately afraid of what Lovino could say to Feliciano. If he ever did tell him, if he ever confirmed his own feelings, he would have to do it himself. "If I break that promise, it doesn't matter if he does anyway."

"Ugh, I see your point." To Lovino, Gilbert said, "Just please don't tell him; we agree to your terms."

"Whatever. He's sleeping now. He doesn't know and I'm not gonna tell him." Ludwig didn't catch the next words, but he figured 'bastard' was one of them. "Just stay away and leave me out of it."

A door slammed somewhere, and Gilbert shrank back into the room. _"What a jerk,_ he can _küss mein arsch."_ Gilbert growled through gritted teeth.

"Please don't make him angrier." Germany's hands were actually shaking.

" _Mein Gott,_ Italy's made you into a nervous wreck!" Prussia said in shock, taking his brother gently by the wrists and forcing him to sit down. "How long have you liked this guy?"

"I don't know…" He moaned and ran a hand through his hair in agitation. "I'm so confused. I don't know why I'm feeling these things. Is it normal? Or, I mean, not 'normal' but… Is it okay?" Prussia looked horrified at his uncertainty.

"Of course it's okay! Why would it be anything other than okay? You realize who you just asked, right? You just asked me, the awesome Prussia, polyamorous pansexual founder of the Frying Pangle, if it was okay if you liked a guy. Not just any guy, a really cute one too." _What? Where does he even come up with those words?_ He pushed past it.

"Well maybe it's okay for _you,_ but you're gross and your love life is ridiculously complicated, what about me?"

"Excuse me? I'm awesome, actually, and that has little to do with the fact that this is absolutely okay! Why on earth would you think it wasn't okay, who even told you that?"

"Um, I asked Roderich about it a while ago and he said I shouldn't think such things."  
"Wait, you asked _who?_ " Gilbert said, like he hadn't heard.

"Roderich. Austria. I asked him and he said it was wrong and I should forget it." There was a moment of quiet, before Gilbert took a deep breath. As he exhaled, he doubled over in raucous, seemingly uncontrollable laughter. He clutched at his sides and fell over onto the couch, howling with glee, and a moment later convulsed onto the floor where he lay on his stomach for several minutes. Tears leaked from his eyes and started to stream down his face, red from laughter, and he curled onto his side and gasped for breath before he started coughing and crying from his position staring up at his brother.

"Gilbert? _Mein Gott,_ are you alright? Are you in pain, do you want me to call you an ambulance?"

Gilbert gasped, coughed, and cried for another minute, and all he could do to communicate was shake his head before he finally gasped for enough breath to wheeze, "No! I want you to call Liz!" Before he dissolved into helpless giggles again.

As soon as Prussia apparently thought all the laughter was gone from his system, he gasped and pushed himself up off the floor on his forearms, then bowed his head in helpless giggling again. He tried a second time to push himself up, and this time grabbed onto the side of the couch before he went down, and he was able to haul himself up to the phone on the end table so he could dial. "She needs to hear this!" He wheezed. "Roderich, telling my brother it was wrong to like someone of the same sex! Roderich!" He gasped and fell back onto the couch again, still unable to keep his laughter under control for more than a few seconds.

"Gilbert, what are you doing?" Germany demanded in exasperation. "Why are you laughing so hard? What's going on?"

Prussia wiped several tears away from his eyes and visibly tried to restrain himself long enough to explain. Would he be able to, with a straight face? "Austria's got the hots for me!" No, apparently not.  
" _Was zum Teufel?"_ Germany asked, baffled, as Prussia descended helplessly into uncontrollable cackling again, subconsciously scrabbling for the phone as he did so. He shook his head through his tears of laughter and automatically dialed Austria's house, hoping Hungary would answer. There seemed no way he'd be able to talk to Austria even for a few seconds without laughing. Surely enough, after a few rings someone answered, and Germany guessed from her voice coming faintly over the phone that it was Hungary. She immediately recognized Prussia, probably by his laugh.

"Gilbert, what's up? Find something good?" Her voice sounded drawn and tired, and it trembled slightly, but she also sounded excited to speak to him.

"Liz! _Mein Gott,_ you've gotta hear what Roderich—" He gasped to regain his voice from his laughter. "What Roderich—Said to my brother!"

"Eh? What'd he say?"

He couldn't answer; he was fighting for breath again. He wiped his eyes and gasped, then handed the phone to Ludwig. "I can't—You tell her—" Ludwig awkwardly took it and brought the phone to his ear.

"Um, _Guten tag,_ Miss Elizaveta? This is Ludwig, I am Gilbert's brother and he has asked me to speak on his behalf because he currently seems to be incapacitated."

"Holy shit, he's right, you are really formal." That flustered him; he hadn't spoken to Hungary very often, even over the phone, and he had been caught off guard already.

"Um, yes, well, he seems to want to share some information he thinks you might find… Humorous?"

"Oh, yes, what is it that's made him laugh so hard he can't even tell me? I can still hear him."

"Right, well, um," _Well, this is fucking embarrassing. Would Elizaveta care if I explained everything that was going on?...Actually, she probably already knows, if Gilbert has had his own speculations to offer._ "I was asking your husband about something because I know him and it led him to say that I should not pursue a romantic relationship. Um, my brother finds this funny because apparently Roderich himself is…" _Um, how do I explain this to his wife? What does 'the hots' even mean? He comes up with such strange phrases._ "I suppose that Roderich was in a similar situation? Somehow? I don't really understand, he was laughing too hard to explain and I don't know exactly what he meant—"

"Oh _mein Gott,_ just give it to me!" Prussia exclaimed, seeming to have recovered enough to talk. Germany dropped the phone like it burned him and Prussia caught it and raised it to his ear. He had to yell through his own laughter. "Liz, it's Gil! Explain this: Your husband told my brother it was wrong to like a man!"

She spluttered in laughter. "What the fuck? Why? Didn't he used to like you?"

" _JA!_ He's such a hypocrite!" Her laughter almost echoed down the phone line.

"Did he seriously? Put Ludwig back on, you're not trustworthy on your own."

Prussia snorted and raised the phone up to Germany again. "She wants you to say it. Tell her what you told me, we can't let that stupid hypocritical aristocrat get away with this."

"Um," Ludwig leaned into the phone, looking uncomfortable. "Well, like I said before, he basically said it was weird." Her giggling was audible even from Gilbert's position.

"Thank you, Ludwig, I needed someone to verify it before I confronted him. I mean, I love him and everything but honestly, what a stupid man I've married. Gilbert?" Gilbert brought the phone back to his ear. "Why do you think he said it was bad? He's so weird sometimes, I don't even—" She exhaled and didn't bother finishing her sentence.

"I have no idea! Is he that bitter still? Even though he's got you? What a loser!"

" _Ja,_ he's a loser, at least he doesn't spend hours every day talking to another man's wife." Ludwig said, much too loudly even though he was far away from the phone.

Gilbert slammed a hand over the receiver and shot Ludwig a hasty " _Halt die Klappe!_ At least I don't loudly announce my taboo love for my housemate when his violent-tempered brother is within easy earshot!" Before redirecting his attention to the phone. Ludwig rolled his eyes.

"I'm gonna get him, let him explain this." Elizaveta was saying. "RODERICH!"

There was some kind of scuffling sound, and then Roderich's voice came over very faintly. "Elizaveta, what is the meaning of your summoning me in such a way?"

"Hang on, let me angle the phone so we can all hear each other… Gil, can you hear me?"

"Yeah, this is fine," He looked over to Ludwig. "West, come here and listen."  
"I'll just use the extension in the next room." He left the room and a moment later his voice came through. "Hello, can you hear me?"

"Ah, that's good, Ludwig's here with us." Prussia said. "Hey, Roderich! What's up with telling my brother who he should and shouldn't date, huh? You know whenever you talk to him it's eventually going to get back to me, because I'm just that awesome of a brother."

"Gilbert, please, I have no idea what you're referring to. Elizaveta, why are you still talking to him so often?"

"Oh come on, this is, like, the one other person I talk to every day. Roderich, I just heard something I thought was interesting. And before you say he was lying, I asked Ludwig and this is what he said happened too. Roderich, did Ludwig happen to tell you he was romantically interested in Feliciano?"  
"How does she know that?!" Ludwig demanded.

"I didn't tell her!" Gilbert snapped back. "I mean, I told her I had suspicions, but I think she just senses these things!"

" _Ja_ , because you're so bad at telling them to her, she figures it out _all_ on her own, even though she's never been here or seen us together."

"Well now we all know, because you just said it." Elizaveta pointed out.

"There are other people in this house, guys! One of them hates me, we're talking about the other, and I don't know where the third one is, but I don't particularly want any of them to overhear this!" He shuddered as he thought of Romano, probably still sulking somewhere.

"How crappy are your telephone speakers that people overhear your entire conversation?" Roderich scoffed.

"Oh, this coming from the technological genius who couldn't even hang up the phone properly during a personal argument and then gets pissy with the Awesome Me for overhearing it, _you're the one who left the phone on, idiot!"_ Gilbert retorted.

"It was rude of you to call in the first place, and the argument was not intended for your ears!" Roderich retorted hotly.

"Calm down, that's not what we're here to discuss." Elizaveta said authoritatively. Then she intoned more gently, "Roderich, did he tell you?"

"How should I remember? I've had too much romantic drama in my own life to remember that concerning others." Austria said haughtily.

"Now Roderich," Hungary said in the same gentle tone. "That doesn't make any sense. We've had almost exactly the same experiences after a certain point, and I remember everything."

"Well, is it really so important that I do?"

"Maybe not in general, but if you don't remember these things, why are you commenting?" Prussia cut in.

"Um, in his defense I did sort of ask for his opinion." Germany ventured.

"But he's a hypocrite and he didn't even pay enough attention to remember it! Austria, you remember that huge fight we had like two days ago about my diaries? You told my brother he shouldn't date a man, when you've been attracted to me for, like, centuries, and also confessed your love for me that one time and I wrote it down in my awesome diary which is why you got mad… Anyway, that's not the point, the point is that you totally contradicted yourself!"

"I don't see how, I stand by what I said." _Harsh, Roderich,_ Ludwig thought.

Prussia sounded like he felt like he should be offended, but he wasn't quite sure why yet. "What's that supposed to mean?" He asked defiantly.

"I'm not going to have this conversation in the same room as my wife."

" _Mein Gott,_ Roderich, you are such a prude!" Elizaveta snapped in frustration. "I know everything that's happened between you, there's not really much sense in covering it up for my benefit. I'm insulted that you think I'm not just as interested as you are."

"' _Mein Gott'_? You've been talking to him so much you've picked up his speech patterns. Next you'll be running around like a hooligan telling everyone how you're so much more 'awesome' than they are. I can't stand for this."

"I will not! And so what if I did? Shouldn't that be my choice?"

"Elizaveta, can we discuss this later?" Roderich asked. There was a moment of very charged, very awkward silence. A moment later, a mysterious, reserved-sounding voice interrupted it.

"Excuse me, may I speak to your operator?" Ludwig jumped in surprise and embarrassment.

"Kiku, this is a personal call!" He shouted flusteredly.

"Oh, I am sorry! I was confused. I could not hear because you were speaking so fast and I do not understand much German. Please excuse me, I will try again later." Kiku hastily apologized and seemed to be about to hang up. _We… Weren't speaking German… Is he just being polite? How much did he hear?_

"No, that's fine, Kiku, we'll go. You make your call, we aren't discussing anything important anyway." Ludwig insisted.

"Oh, no, you must not end your discussion on my account. I will wait for you to finish. It doesn't pay to prioritize professional relationships over personal ones all the time."

"Huh? What do you mean?" There was expectant silence from all four other listeners.

"I meant, you should not ignore your romantic interest, if it is important to you…" Kiku murmured. "I am sorry, please excuse me, this is not my place. I will try to call again later."

"N-no, Kiku," Ludwig said through his growing embarrassment. "It's fine, we were just finishing up here anyway. Gilbert, hang up and let him use the phone for something useful."

"Okay, you're right, sorry Kiku. Liz, I'm gonna call you later, and Roderich, you're being an ass as always. The Awesome Prussia is going to go do something else now." One of the phones hung up.

"Right, well, I'll leave you to make your call, Kiku. Oh, um, I trust you to be discreet about anything you may have overheard by mistake."

"Of course, Germany-kun. Thank you." Ludwig hung up and rejoined Gilbert in the sitting room.

"Well, that was awkward." Gilbert said as Ludwig sat down.

"I've never known you to say something was awkward." Ludwig commented.

"It was _really_ awkward. Hey, do you have any idea how long your other housemate was listening to that call? Does he do that often?" Prussia sounded nervous, almost guilty.

"Um, I've never known Japan to do that before and it doesn't seem in character for it to be a habit. I'm sure it was an honest mistake. It's not that surprising, though. He lives far away, so he makes frequent calls overseas. Why? Has he interrupted one of your calls before now?" _What are you hiding, Bruder?_

"Well, _nein_ … It was just surprising. I didn't think anyone else was listening."

"You knew I was there, that didn't make that argument any more awkward?"

"Well… It kind of did. But we're used to it, I guess."

"Gilbert, how often exactly do you talk to Elizaveta? I mean, you _do_ call other people, besides her, occasionally, right?" Ludwig asked, remembering some of Roderich's pointed comments.

Gilbert looked instantly uncomfortable. "Not that often. Just… Once or twice a day. If we're busy." Ludwig winced. He wasn't usually one to give his older brother advice, and he knew he probably wouldn't take it anyway, but he had to push the subject. This was getting out of hand.

"Once or twice… A day. For how long?"

"Not long," He said defensively. "An hour or two, maybe." _He spends between one and four hours on the phone with her every day? When they're busy?_

"And… Who usually calls first?" He may be terrible at reading social signals, but this definitely felt off.

"I don't know." Gilbert sounded even more defensive. "She makes a lot of calls, but I guess maybe I call her more often."

"So… In the last week, has she ever called you first?"

"I don't know! Shut up already!" Gilbert snapped, flopping back on the couch in apparent exhaustion. _Okay, he definitely knows that this is off too._

"Look, I'm not trying to interfere in your life, because I understand boundaries somehow even though you raised me. But I just want you to think about this. I think you know it isn't right."

Prussia glanced back over. "What do you know about it?" _Okay, that's it, I've said my piece, now I should back off._

"Nothing. I just want to make sure you're alright."

"I'm fine."

"You're fine." A statement, not a question.

" _Ja._ I'm totally fine."

"I'd have believed you if you didn't add 'totally'."

"I'm more than fine. I'm awesome. Totally awesome. I love being alone." _Uh-oh. This is worse than I thought. I've never heard him talk like this._

"Who said anything about being alone?"

"Look, I'm fine, okay?"

"If you say so."

He sat up, and clutching the throw pillow from the couch. "I am. I'm fine, I don't need people to tie me down. I'm not like that stupid—like that stupid—" His voice broke. "— _that stupid aristocrat!"_

* * *

 _ **AN:**_ _Hey, friends! It's only been six days but I just couldn't wait! I need the attention *laughs nervously* Didja miss me? No? Oh well, I missed you._

 _*_ _frère- brother_

 _**_ _mon Cher- my dear_

 _***cherí- darling_

 _****_ _Halt die Klappe- Shut up_

 _*****Capire- Understand?_

 _******küss mein arsch- kiss my ass_

 _*******Was zum Teufel- what the hell_


	12. Chapter 12: Anything

**Chapter Twelve: Anything**

Prussia gasped and covered his mouth with his hand, both as a reaction to what he'd just said and to muffle what was about to come next. Tears stung fiery hot at his eyes, and his throat suddenly felt constricted as he fought not to make another sound. Germany was staring at him with transparent concern and fear, and he knew he should move or speak and just move the conversation along as quickly as physically possible. He'd done his best to forget all this drama when he started taking care of his brother. He'd tried to shield him and shield himself, but now it was all piling up again. His lungs filled with static, but he held his breath until he had to cough. At last, he surrendered, and his whole body shook with a racking cough that barely masked a sob.

" _Bruder_!" Ludwig cried in alarm. "What's wrong with you?" Gilbert just shook his head and sobbed until his coughs dragged his body down onto the couch, where he lay whimpering and still coughing, like he'd been coughing all day but so much worse now. The pain in his chest grew so intense he could barely breathe, and every time he sobbed it flared and spasmed and his cough was getting worse. Tears streaked down his face before he realized he'd let them fall.

Ludwig had noticed his coughing and pulled out a handkerchief to cover his nose and mouth. Through it he said, "Are you alright? What's happening?" He leaned closer in spite of his germophobia, and Gilbert suddenly felt a rush of poignant shame flood his being. His baby brother wasn't supposed to take care of _him_. He was the Awesome Gilbert Beilschmidt, and he needed no one to take care of him, he didn't even need to do it himself. Not that he would be able to help himself with this utter sterile desolation he'd been pushing away for a century.

"I don't know," He hiccupped. "I've never—I can't—It just hit me, you know?" He took in his brother's uncertain bearing and tried his best to stop crying. "I've been alone since the unification of Austria-Hungary! Before that even. I don't even know how long it's been since…" He trailed off.

Through the sobs he coughed and fought for breath as all the emotions he'd been neglecting coalesced at once. He was faintly aware of a distinctly awkward presence shifting closer to him. Ludwig sat down next to him on the couch, the handkerchief still over his nose and mouth, but with his free hand he reached out, ever so slowly, clearly uncomfortable, and gently wrapped his free arm around Gilbert's shuddering shoulders. He was stiff as a board, but Gilbert appreciated the gesture.

He felt a swell of shame and self-pity as he realized his baby brother was the one comforting _him_ , even though it clearly wasn't something he was prepared to do. This was the first time Gilbert had ever seen Ludwig do such a thing. _Perhaps he's learned from comforting his friends. Every day here seems to be a new crisis, even though it looks like he's handling it well..._ The thoughts only made him cry harder as he realized his younger brother was within reach of the perfect relationship Gilbert had spent his life convincing himself he'd never need. He'd spent so long lying to himself, and even longer lying to everyone else. He'd been living in denial for centuries, telling himself he didn't want things, and now he had no idea how to say he needed them.

Gilbert finally started to quiet down, but he kept giving the occasional sniffle. At last Ludwig cleared his throat. "So… I guess there's a little more to this story than you've been telling me. You… You were saying… You feel lonely?" He hazarded. Gilbert nodded without saying anything. Ludwig paused for a moment, as if to evaluate the situation. "Would you like to tell me… Why?" Gilbert nodded emphatically and stifled another sob, curling into his brother's arm and clinging to him like a lifeline. Ludwig stiffened, then pulled him a little closer and patted his shoulder a few times.

"I-I… I-I-I just… I miss h-..." He gulped. "I love Elizaveta!" The words tumbled out before he realized he'd been thinking them. He'd never let himself think them before. But they were true. "I love her! I always have and I've never told anybody and I never wanted to tell anybody but I can't live like this any more! But I can't tell her, I can never ever tell Roderich, and I know I shouldn't feel this way or talk this way or think this way but I can't not know it and I don't know what to do! I love her…" He moaned and squeezed his eyes shut against the next onslaught of sobs.

Ludwig just nodded gently, not surprised. "I know."

"How could you know? I never told anybody."

Ludwig sighed. "I try to let you handle your own personal affairs, but I see you lately. You talk to her every day. And I don't try to listen, but I hear you… The way you talk to her… You're different. You sound so much younger, happier somehow. But only when you're laughing. Then when you hang up…" He trailed off. "I saw you once. Just now, when you were on the phone, you looked so happy, but the moment you hung up your whole face changed. And don't tell me it was just because of the situation, I know it was more than that. Your smirk faded. You closed your eyes for a second and took a deep breath, and then you didn't talk for a moment. After that you were back to normal, for a little while. But I saw it. I look that way every time I leave a room." _You don't understand! ...How could you understand? You have someone who loves you, even though you're too stupid to remember it. If only I had a way to prove it… But you would never believe me anyway._

"It's different for you…" He murmured hopelessly. Ludwig didn't offer a reply to that.

"You know you can't do anything about it, right?" He said after a moment. "You know she's chosen someone else and it would be wrong to interfere with her life as long as she is safe and happy. You know you can't ever act on your feelings."

"Of course I do." Gilbert snapped bitterly. Then, more gently, "I know that. I know I missed my chance. I've tried so hard to move on. I mean, we were never really together, not like she and Roderich, and I thought I never wanted that kind of relationship anyway so I don't know why it hurt so much—" His voice once again broke into sobs. "And Roderich, God only knows where we went wrong but I'm alone and he still hates me, he barely lets me talk to Liz anymore and every year I swear it gets worse, I was never really allowed at the house to begin with but he'd chase me off if I went there for more than a few minutes now and I'm not even supposed to call her anymore, every time I call and he picks up he tells me to go away and I swear he knows!" Gilbert shuddered and huddled closer to Ludwig, suddenly feeling tiny, weak, and helpless. " _Ich vermisse sie_ …"

Ludwig sighed. "I know." He patted Gilbert's shoulder gently. "It's okay…"

Gilbert continued to sniffle and cling listlessly to the couch.

"Do you want a drink?" Ludwig offered after a moment. "I think we both need a drink."

"Beer." Gilbert agreed without looking up. Ludwig left the room and then returned a moment later with their beveridges. Gilbert took his with shaking hands, then tried to set it down on the coffee table. He dropped it; the mug clattered to the floor and spilled everywhere. " _Scheisse!_ I'm sorry Ludwig, that's my bad. Here, I'll clean it up—" His sentence was interrupted by a coughing fit, but he proffered a pocket square and tried to remedy the sudden spill.

"Don't be stupid, Gilbert, you're crying. I'll take care of it." Ludwig grabbed a dish towel and started cleaning up the mess. "Wow, this floor's filthy again. I take Feliciano's cleaning for granted, even though I don't mind doing it myself. I'll just sweep up while I'm doing this anyway…" He muttered. Gilbert watched as he left the room yet again after wiping up the spill and returned with a pushbroom that looked much too short for him.

"Is that Feli's?" He asked.

"No, it's mine. I think he uses it, though." Within seconds Ludwig was rhythmically sweeping the entire room as Gilbert stared, perplexed. A moment later he was finished, and he laid the broom against a wall near a painting Gilbert presumed was Kiku's. For some reason he found himself staring, not at the painting so much as at the whole wall. Something about the lines gave him pause. The straight vertical line of the broom, at that distance and angle, right next to the rectangle of canvas on the wall called to mind one particular image. He knew he'd seen it recently, what was it?

 _Wait a minute… That's… That's the design that was carved on the shield! It was a line and a box, and it looked just like that! Was that what it was? Was the design supposed to be showing a painting?_

His external despair melted away, replaced for the moment by curiosity. _Feliciano's an artist, right? Didn't Ludwig once say something about learning to paint a long time ago?_ It felt like a connection. He couldn't be sure, but… _I have to keep looking. I found the shield in the basement… Maybe there's something else down there!_ He barely noticed Ludwig handing him a second beer. "Oh, thanks." He took it, still distracted by his thoughts.

The phone rang. Prussia flinched and Germany flinched, placing a hand on his arm to keep him from spilling his second drink, then Germany answered the phone. " _Guten tag._ Britain?" Prussia frowned. _Why is Not-Great Britain calling him?_ Germany suddenly scowled. "No. No, I haven't given it more thought. _Because it's a ridiculous request!_ I can't negotiate this right now, I've got something else going on! _NO!_ That's disgusting!" It sounded like more than one voice was on the other end of the line. "Look, just everyone shut up! I have to call you back later!"

"That sounds pretty serious, you should probably go." Prussia said nervously.

"It's just those idiots trying to distract me all the time and not letting me get any actual work done, I wouldn't be surprised if that was their plan all along. They keep calling me and asking the most inappropriate, outlandish questions during business hours just to confuse me and keep me talking. I don't know what they're doing but I'm getting really sick of it." He annunciated the last few words clearly so the callers could hear, then brought the phone back to his ear. "Did you actually have something you wanted to discuss or were you just doing this to waste my time?" He paused for a moment, listening. Gilbert couldn't make out the words the other person was saying, and he wasn't sure who it was. It seemed like Arthur-whoever had made the call, but then at least one other person was crowding the phone and a couple of voices were overlapping chaotically. Then Ludwig answered, pausing for a moment between each statement as if listening. "I already told you, no. No, I do not want to renegotiate. No, I do not want to renegotiate with Alfred. No, I'd rather not. No, actually, I find that repulsive. No, actually I'm not seeing anybody, why the fuck are you asking me that? That's disgusting. No, thank you, Francis." A much longer pause. "Actually, I was not aware of that." Then he continued. "Because it's not relevant? I don't know, why does that information come to you so easily?" He waited. "You're idiots. How did you even get this number? This isn't even my office phone, this is my home extension, what the fuck is wrong with you?" Apparently an explanation was given. "Oh, that explains it. Roderich's such a prick. Yes, I would appreciate it if you did not repeat that to him. Are you serious? Give me a minute. I'll call you from my office phone if you actually want to talk business, but I've got my own stuff going on over here, okay? Alright, whatever. Don't call this number anymore. I've got roommates, plus it's creepy. Stop it."

"Are you going to take that in your office?" Gilbert asked as soon as Ludwig hung up the phone.

"I don't have to." He assured hastily. "Are you feeling alright?"

"Yeah… I'll be okay. In a little while. Things sound serious over here, how are you doing?" He changed the subject.

"Oh… I'll be okay. The competition's heating up, I guess. I've got so much work to do." He sighed. "You'll be alright, Gilbert. I know you will." Ludwig gave him a final awkward pat on the shoulder. "I suppose I should go deal with these incompetent rivals before anyone else comes and gets involved in this silliness. See you later, Gil."

"Thanks. Good luck with that." Ludwig retreated down the hall into his office, leaving Gilbert alone with his thoughts. He knew he needed to find more clues. But he didn't know where else to look, so he'd have to go back to where he first found the shield. He had to check the basement.

Gilbert sneezed. The basement was darker than he remembered, and, he wasn't sure how, dustier too. The single lightbulb hanging from the ceiling showed more dust motes than he expected from any part of his brother's house drifting around, but he did his best to ignore them. His allergies were starting to act up, combined with his recent cough, and he covered the bottom half of his face with his shirt to ease his breathing. He took a few steps further into the basement and started glancing at a few items on the shelves as he passed. He remembered most of the items, Ludwig's various childhood memorabilia, old furniture, and various boxes with labels in several languages. German he recognized, and another written in similar letters with very different handwriting, and then a third he couldn't make heads nor tails of. _I guess the three of them share this part._ His direction was all off because this time he'd entered from inside the house, and last time he'd been in here he'd come in with Ludwig from the outside. After a few more steps the labeled boxes slowly transitioned to unlabeled ones. _He hasn't gotten very far with the cleaning in this particular section._

A little further on, the light faded behind him and he was in deep darkness. He strained his eyes and sidled closer to the wall, then started walking with his hand against it to guide him. A moment later he tripped and fell flat on his stomach, barely breaking his fall with his elbows. _Scheisse!_ He grit his teeth from the pain and pushed himself back up to the wall. _This isn't going to work, I need a flashlight. I'll just get one from upstairs and then come back._ He felt his way cautiously back along the wall, then made his way back to the feeble, flickering lightbulb at the base of the stairs. As soon as he got there he realized he was bleeding from both of his elbows and had a long gash in one knee. _How did I not feel this? Oh well. I'll just get a flashlight and clean myself up and keep going._ He climbed up the stairs and glanced around to make sure no one was watching, then hurried into the kitchen and started looking around in the cupboards for a flashlight. He was just reaching up on his tiptoes, thinking he'd found one in the topmost cupboard, when the voice he'd least wanted to hear any more of today startled him half out of his wits.

"What the hell are you doing?" Lovino asked, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest and his characteristic menacing scowl.

"Your mo—" He bit back whatever juvenile thing he was about to say, reminding himself just in time that this was an incredibly confrontational near-stranger. "Nothing, what are you doing?"  
"Minding my own fucking business, what the hell happened to you?"

"If you were minding your own business you wouldn't have fucking asked, and nothing happened so if you'll excuse me, I'm just trying to get something."

"Something happened. Look in a mirror lately or are you seeing two of yourself?"

"What the fuck…?" Gilbert wasn't processing the strange phrasing immediately. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"You look shady."

"What?" Just then he caught a glimpse of his reflection in the polished stove. His hair was a mess, his face still pink from crying and now his allergies, his shirt collar askew and buttoned incorrectly, and both of his elbows and forearms were scraped and streaked with blood and dust. He then looked down at himself and realized that his pants were tattered on one leg from the knee down. He'd seen himself look better after battle. "Shit. I can explain. Wait, no I can't. Nevermind. There is no explanation. I'm just going to go. Have a nice day, please don't speak of this to anyone." He finally grabbed the flashlight and started hobbling back down in the direction of the basement.

"Not so fast, you sneaky potato bastard. I know you're up to something. Now you can tell me and stop so this won't end badly for you, or you can keep doing what you're doing and regret it. I'm tougher than I look, dammit. You don't want to mess with me." Lovino had assumed a fighting stance at an uncomfortably close distance. His forehead barely came up to Gilbert's shoulders, and as Gilbert's eyes wandered down past his primed fists he realized Lovino was standing on his toes. _He really shouldn't do this, it's embarassing._ He slipped the flashlight into his pocket and tried to sidle past.

"Okay…" He said, cautiously raising his hands, palms out, in a gesture of surrender. "Okay... That's fine, I promise I won't do anything bad because I'm awesome, you can go back to sleep and I awesomely won't bother you because I'm awesome and actually a little preoccupied at the moment. Okay? Is that fine? Can we all just maybe relax a little?" As he spoke he gently placed his hands around Lovino's wrists without tightening them, just a light restraint. "That's good, put the weapons down, you don't have to fight me. Just let me through, and I'll get out of your way."

"Don't touch me!" Lovino hissed, pulling his hands close to his chest.

"Okay! I'm not touching! I'm just gonna go now, alright? See ya." He walked as purposefully as he ever had in his life straight back downstairs, flashlight now in hand. _Yikesyikesyikesyikesyikes. I'm too awesome to be scared of him, but I always feel like he's watching me. I don't understand him at all. Why's he so angry all the time?_

Gilbert clicked on the flashlight.


	13. Chapter 13: Take Away

**Chapter Thirteen: Take Away**

 _I forgot to get any bandages._ Gilbert examined his knee, then shrugged and kept walking. The door above him slammed shut. _SHIT! Did that just lock?!_ He froze, listening. Footsteps creaked above, but other than that there weren't any other sounds. After a moment he shrugged and kept walking, making his way back through the communal storage area and back to the place where he'd tripped and fallen. He scanned the area with the flashlight, taking in the shelves and ceilings and making sure the floor was clear where he was walking. A moment later he could identify the spot where he'd fallen, because he'd left a trail as he limped back through the dust that gathered by the wall. _Wow, that's... Truly disgusting._

He coughed and kept moving, venturing further and further into darkness. _This doesn't even look like the basement anymore. Where'd all the shelves go?_ The walls around him were thickly covered in cobwebs. Prussia followed the beam of the flashlight up to the ceiling and noticed that behind the cobwebs were ornate ceiling decorations and support beams that didn't match the rest of the basement. _That's odd. There's nothing like this in the rest of the house._ He studied them a little closer. _How old is this house, anyway? When did Ludwig move here? He's been here for quite a while, as long as Austria-Hungary's been together, anyway, but upstairs it doesn't look nearly as old._

He walked around and down a new corridor to see the carvings on the ceilings from a few different angles. _I wonder why he chose this house, anyway. It's pretty big for just one person. Now it makes more sense because he's got two other people living with him, but there are still several extra rooms even with Feli's creepy brother napping here and mine. He must have chosen this house for a reason, but what was it? It just doesn't seem very practical._ A darker shadow behind the cobwebs suddenly caught his attention. "Huh, what's that?" He wondered aloud, reaching up to push aside the cobwebs and examine it closer.

" _Eugh!_ "

Several spiders fell out of the cobweb and started crawling up his hands and sleeves as he moved it. This also disturbed a thick layer of dust, making him cough and sneeze and temporarily blinding him. In a brief moment of panic, he frantically started brushing his hands off on his pants, dropping the flashlight on his foot in the process. " _Fucking—_ " As soon as he got his sight back he made certain all the spiders were gone, then picked up the flashlight. _I'm too awesome to be bitten by a stupid little arachnid!_

Prussia pointed the beam back at the mysterious dark object he'd been trying to reach for earlier and realized that it was some kind of fabric, almost like a tapestry or a banner. Carefully, because he could tell immediately by the feel that it was very old and fragile, he took it down and unfurled it on the floor. _It's not like it'll get any dustier, I guess. Woah, what's that?_

The top section of the wall started crumbling away once the banner was removed, and then the wall fell away in front of him. As Gilbert examined it, he realized it was actually just a tiny layer of plaster, less than a centimeter thick. Behind it was an ancient, enigmatic wall of wood. Gilbert shined the beam of the flashlight around the edges in puzzlement. Then a dull metallic glint at the edge caught his attention. He knelt down and peered at it closely, then realized it was a lock. _That means this is a door._ A sudden thought occurred to him.

 _Is it possible?_ He took the key he'd found the day before out of his pocket and held it up to the lock. It looked like it might fit.

He tried it.

It didn't fit.

 _...Now what?_

Either it didn't fit, or the lock was rusted shut. He paused and leaned against the wall, resting his hand on the doorknob. _Well…_ Barely aware of what he was doing, he pulled his hand away and the door swung wide open with a creak that almost made him jump out of his skin. It wasn't even locked. He laughed awkwardly out loud, then remembered he was by himself.

Prussia shrugged it off and stepped through the fragile-looking doorframe and found himself in a large square room. As he cast the beam of the flashlight around, he took in a few odd pieces of furniture. A trunk, a dresser, the rotting remains of a bed…

Prussia moved on to the other contents of the room. He opened the drawers of the dresser and found some strange dark-colored garments and decided to take some upstairs to examine, then he moved on to the trunk placed at the foot of the bed.

He tried to open it, but it was locked. After a few seconds of fumbling, he located the lock, and remembered the key in his pocket. He hardly expected it to work, and was already preparing himself to carry the whole massive thing upstairs and pry it open regardless, when, much to his astonishment, the lock sprang open with a rusty _clack_. Eagerly, he pushed the lid back to discover the contents of the trunk.

It was packed full of clothes and random personal effects, and a couple of notebooks, all of which were written in Latin, which Gilbert did not understand. He was disappointed that the trunk hadn't yielded something more interesting. But then, he reached all the way to the bottom and felt some kind of sheet pulled tightly over something not quite solid. In curiosity, he pulled it up and pointed the flashlight on it. It seemed to be a painting on a canvas, covered over by a black sheet for protection. _I wonder what's underneath._

He pushed the protective curtain away and almost dropped the whole thing on the floor in shock. At any rate, he dropped the flashlight and had to go scrambling for it again, but when he'd successfully retrieved it and looked back at the painting, his mind went into overdrive trying to process it. He seemed to take in one detail at a time.

First he saw green—a dress. A dress he happened to recognize. Liz used to wear a dress just like that. In fact, upon closer examination, that appeared to be her exact dress. Next he took in the backdrop—some kind of bed? And the lighting and intensity of the colors. The style looked familiar. But the most significant detail was the subject's face. Gilbert knew that face, framed by brown hair with exactly one unruly curl. He'd flirted, very unsuccessfully, with the owner of that particular face, mere hours before. There wasn't any possible way to deny it.

It was Feliciano.

He'd barely aged. Even though in the painting he was sleeping, there was no mistaking his face. But now he was confused. _Who painted this?_ The style was like Feliciano's, but not quite the same. And if the subject was Feliciano, then he couldn't have been the artist. _Who was it? And why is it in this room connected to the foundations of my brother's house?_

His mind was working at dangerously high speeds. He was almost certain that Feliciano was his brother's long-lost first love, but that didn't explain why he didn't remember him. Or why Feliciano didn't remember _him_. None of it made any sense, but despite it all he was certain. There had to be an explanation. There just had to be.

Gilbert would look at it again, when he had Elizaveta to help him work through it all. But first, he had to take it upstairs.

He picked up the painting and walked back to the entrance to the secret adjoined room, stopping short as his flashlight beam fell on the banner he'd spread on the floor before he entered.

 _Hang on, is that some kind of insignia there?_ He crouched down for a closer look under the grey-white beam of the flashlight and thought he recognized the sign he saw there. It was a dark print that looked like two darkly colored eagles on a yellow background. The eagles were designed in a way that reminded him of his own flag. He didn't immediately recognize the tapestry, even though it looked familiar. But as soon as he realized that it bore an insignia, he suddenly had a flash of memory. A blur of color and sound, from a battle so many centuries ago. And with it, finally, a name.

 _Holy Roman Empire._

And then he realized that it was not a tapestry, but a flag.


	14. Chapter 14: What's Standing

**AN:** _Shoot! Last chapter I almost went two months without updating. Sorry! But I've finally gotten back in the flow. And tbh, I've been looking forward to writing this chapter since, like, February, so... Here ya go, lol. Also, I've gotten so many reviews for this asdfjkl;! Thank you all so much, I honestly never expected to get more than two or three. But Ilyasm and promise I'll update more regularly someday!_

 **Chapter Fourteen: What's Standing In Front Of Me**

After Gilbert hung up, Elizaveta hesitated for a moment to hang up the phone, glancing uncomfortably at Roderich. He scowled back, and she was about to just hang up and face her irritated husband before a voice from the phone caught her attention. "Miss Elizaveta?"  
"Yes?" _Is that the housemate who interrupted us all? How does he know my name?_ She shrugged it off. "Sorry, I'll let you make your call now."

"No, wait!" _What's his name again? Gilbert only called him Japan._

"What is it?" She lowered her voice slightly and turned away from Austria.

"I actually wanted to speak with you briefly."

"Well, um, this actually isn't a great time." She muttered.

"Oh, my apologies, I promise this will be quick."

"O...Okay. Um, no problem. What's up?" Desperately avoiding eye contact with Austria.

"Well, you heard what I said to Germany-kun earlier, right? About pursuing a relationship that's important to him?"

"Yeah." _Where's he going with this?_

"Well, I've heard that you know a lot about relationships." She almost choked.

"Who the hell told you that?" She snorted, then quickly cleared her throat as she saw Roderich's expression. "Did you mean that I like hearing about other people's? Because I don't know that I actually—" To her shock, he actually cut her off.

"It doesn't matter. Sorry to interrupt, but I really need advice quickly. There's someone I've liked for a long time now. A boy. His name is Matthew. He's also a nation, but I don't know his nation name. I kind of want to pursue it, but I'm afraid I don't know how. And there are other complications. I don't think Germany would approve of our relationship." _Matthew? Do I know a nation called Matthew?_ She wasn't sure. The name sounded English, but she knew it wasn't England or America. _Or is it America? No way to be sure._ Hungary shrugged it off.

"Why? Because he's a boy? We just had a whole conversation about that, I'm sure he won't mind."

"No, no, that's not what I'm worried about. It's the… Other complications."

"What other complications?"  
"I'm not sure how much I trust him."

"Well, that's tricky, but I think you know the answer."

"Please, I really need advice, I don't know who else to turn to."  
"Ask Prussia then. He'll know better than I do if it's okay or not."

"I'm embarrassed."

"To talk to him, but not to me? Don't worry, I can almost guarantee that he doesn't give a shit whatsoever."

"I know, but I'm just not sure. I wanted to ask you, because everyone here seems to respect your opinions a lot."

"Really? I haven't even seen most of them since they were kids, but that's nice to know." She was actually touched, enough to give him the advice she'd have taken when she was single. "You know what, if you really like him, I think you should go for it. If it doesn't work out, it doesn't work out. May as well take the chance."

"You think so?"

"Absolutely. Go get 'em."

"Thank you, Miss Hungary-sama," Japan gushed. "I will try."

"No problem. Good luck." She hung up awkwardly and turned to Roderich.

"Are you quite finished with your phone call?" He asked coldly.

"Yes, I've finally finished up, so I'm ready to be lectured like a child for no apparent reason whatsoever whenever you're ready to lecture me."

"Excuse me? Lecture you? Am I not allowed to be uncomfortable with your repeated fraternizing with that degenerate, against my specific wishes?"

"Excuse you? I'm not allowed to have any personal freedoms whatsoever if they make you uncomfortable? It's fucking _Gilbert,_ Roderich, it's not like he's gonna _do_ anything. He's my best friend, I'm not allowed to talk to him now? Just because of some stuff he did a hundred years ago? It's not it's even his fault anyway!"

"Not his fault? I told him I loved him, he said 'Okay'!" Roderich was almost shouting now.

"What was he supposed to say? Seriously, how were you expecting that conversation to go?"

" _Differently._ " He paused, then sighed, closing his eyes. It took Elizaveta a moment to process what he meant.

"Oh, _Roderich_ , that's gross!" Even as she said it she was imagining it. Whatever _he_ was imagining. She wasn't actually disgusted in the slightest, quite the opposite, but she had to be for argument's sake. He could see right through her, though.

"Hypocrite, you're imagining it right now."

"So? It's different, I'm imagining _my husband_ and somebody else, you're just plain fantasizing about somebody else."

"Imagining your husband with your ex, you pure-thoughted woman! How chaste and normal of you! I'm being sarcastic."

"I got that! At least it's better than just my ex, or whatever else you were thinking of. And anyway, you're the one who put the image into my head!" She huffed and ran a hand through her hair agitatedly. "Do you still have feelings for Gilbert? Is that what this is about?"

"What? N—no… Do _you_?" _Why the fucking hesitation?!_

"What?! Of course n—" She coughed, her whole face flaming. Which was ridiculous, because of course she didn't have feelings for Gilbert! Thoughts she had on no sleep didn't count. "No!" She exclaimed, much more loudly than she meant to.

They both stared at each other in silence, husband and wife. Both desperately clinging to the same lie. Both of them knowing the real truth.

Roderich broke the silence first. "I don't want you talking to Gilbert anymore."

Elizaveta followed, really shouting now. "Well I'm going to keep talking to him whether you like it or not! He's my best friend and it's not fair to me to make me give that up for you. I've given up so much for you already!" Tears were streaming down her face without her even realizing it. Her corset suddenly felt bone-crushingly tight, the long skirt she wore awkward and inhibiting. She used to be a soldier. She used to be a soldier! What had happened to her?

"I gave up my army. Devoted myself to protecting you. And then I became a housewife. This is not who I thought I would grow up to be! This is not the person I was. Gilbert was my friend and liked me for who I was, but I was never good enough for you after we got married. I've never been good enough for you." And she had so wanted to be _good enough._ But it was time to stop.

"That wasn't who you were. You grew up living a lie!"

"And I got married living another one!" She stifled a sob.

"If this isn't the real you, then who have I been in love with all these years?" Roderich asked, more quietly but much colder too.

"No one. A lie. It's all been a lie." She forced herself to pull it together. "I don't know, Roderich. But I don't think this is working out anymore. I think I need to make a change."

"Maybe I do too." Roderich sighed, shaking his head.

"I might need some time away."

"I understand." He nodded, then stepped to the side of the door to let her leave.

She paused to take a long look at him as she passed. "Goodbye, Roderich."

Finally, as she made her way back to her own study, she allowed herself to sob inconsolably. Finally, now that she was alone. Many rooms away, a bitter, melancholy tune echoed through the house as Roderich played the piano. -Her body shook so much as she cried, it didn't even feel like hers. Although, when had it ever felt like hers? Elizaveta's eyes wandered to the wardrobe, and her thoughts wandered to Gilbert's jacket. It had comforted her before. Perhaps it would again.

A moment later she'd wrapped it close around her, soothed by the familiar old fabric. It still smelled faintly of battles she'd fought in. It seemed strange that that was a soothing smell to her, but she found herself instantly comforted. More than safe, she felt strong. It had been so long since she'd felt strong.

Elizaveta wondered what was happening to Gilbert. It may have been her perception after a confusing night of no sleep, but he sounded a little different. She hoped he was okay. It was so frustrating, being stuck in this huge house practically by herself, hardly ever allowed to leave, never knowing what was happening outside except when someone told her. So now, as always, she could do nothing but wonder…

The phone rang, nearly startling her out of her skin, and she hastily picked it up before Roderich thought to do so himself. "Hello?" She wasn't sure who she was expecting. Not Gilbert, surely, he'd already called today. But when the caller answered her—

" _Liz! You won't believe what I just found!"_

"Gilbert!" She shrieked in excitement, then forced herself to calm down. Ridiculously, and for no reason, a blush crept over her face, and she suddenly got a warm feeling welling up in her chest. _It's because I'm emotional. And he caught me in his jacket._ That thought was even more ridiculous. Obviously he didn't know she was wearing his jacket, or even that she still had it. She pushed the thought aside and it was quickly replaced by curiosity. "Why are you calling again?"

"That's what I'm trying to tell you!" Gilbert was babbling in obvious excitement, barely making sense or stopping for breath. "I found something really cool! It's so cool, and so important, and I was so awesomely able to find it and now, Liz, I seriously think we might be able to prove it to them, Liz! Liz! Liz! I found a painting and a flag and I know who my brother used to be and guess what was on the painting? Guess what? Guessguessguess!" She could barely understand him, but his excitement was contagious.

"What did you find?" She stood up, listening eagerly. He'd spoken so fast she's only caught about one word out of three, but she heard enough. "What was it? _Teeeellll meee!_ "

"A painting! I found a painting in Ludwig's basement and I looked at it and it was so beautiful and I saw the person in it and I realized I'd seen them only a few minutes ago because it was a painting of Feliciano! As in Italy! And as in my soon-to-be brother-in-law! I'm so happy, Liz, I'm so happy for them, I was going to show Ludwig the painting but then he was in a meeting and wouldn't let me in but I can't wait to tell him what we know!"

Elizaveta couldn't believe her ears. She had to listen to the whole story again, and had to be able to understand it. But listening was something both she and Gilbert had a bit of trouble with. Much like patience. But now she had to be patient and get him to tell the whole story slowly enough for her to listen properly. "Okay, Gil, let's both calm down, alright? I can barely understand you." She sat back down and took a deep breath. "Alright. Now tell me everything that happened in the—" Elizaveta glanced at the grandfather clock in one corner of the room. "—hour since we last spoke."

And Gilbert told her. About how he decided to search the basement, although the circumstances that caused him to make that decision were unclear and she got the feeling he was leaving something out, but kept listening anyway. Most of his story was like that, skipping over a few events and then coming back to them later, or just forgetting about them entirely, but she didn't care enough to go over every tiny occurrence. The main point was the painting. She was holding her breath as he told her about it, and then gasped again as he told her about the flag, and the fact that he knew the name of the nation his brother used to be.

"But I forgot to tell you! I know too!"

"What?" He sounded incredulous. "You found something? Why didn't you tell me?"

"We were both distracted, it doesn't matter, but last night—" She broke off, taking another deep breath as she got ready to explain her findings. "I went into Italy's old room, and I found something under his floorboards."

"Woah, how thoroughly were you inspecting? Jeez. If anyone looked that closely at most of the stuff in my house, that's just setting yourself up for a mentally scarring experience." Hungary rolled her eyes.

"Well, not everyone's as disgusting as you are. That's not the point, anyway. The point is, I found this lockbox full of sketches, and they were inscribed! I know Ludwig's old nation name!"  
"So we both know it?" Prussia said, after a tiny pause.

"I think so."

"Should we say it together?"

"On three." They counted together. _One, two, three…_

"Holy Roman Empire!" They both exclaimed at once.

" _Istenem!_ I can't believe we finally know who he is, I'm so glad we were able to figure it out, I love you so much right now!" She beamed before a beat of dead silence made her realize just what she'd said in her outburst.

Prussia, either in exceptionally rare consideration or otherwise complete innocence, quickly ended the awkward moment. Although, why was it even awkward? Her heart fluttered faintly and she found herself wildly wondering if perhaps he felt the same way. But again, the same way as _what?_ What was she even feeling? Prussia's words soon distracted her from her confusing inner turmoil. "So how are we going to tell them?"

 _Istenem,_ she hadn't even thought about that yet. "Woah. That's gonna be a tough conversation to start. I don't even know."

"We should get together in person to figure it out. I'm coming home tomorrow. Do you think we can work on it then?"

"Yeah, I think we can." She paused, twisting the phone cord around her fingers uncertainly. A thought had just occurred to her. _There's no way Roderich's going to let him past the front lawn. In fact, I don't think I can stay here anymore either._ She had to ask him something. _Come on, he'll probably say yes. Just ask him!_ "Um, Gilbert?"

" _Ja_?" He said easily.

"I was wondering… Do you think I could... maybe… Stay over? At your house. For a little while."

"Oh. Um," His voice suddenly sounded very different. "Sure. No problem. Uh, why though?"

"Oh, um, I can't really say right now." She bit her lip nervously. "But I might need someplace to stay for a while."

"Is everything okay?" He asked, suddenly quiet.

"I don't know. I just need to get out of here for a bit. So I'll stay at your house, right? For a few days, maybe?"

"Y-yeah. Yeah, of course, whatever you need."

"You're a lifesaver and a sweetheart, thank you so much."

"N-no problem." _Did he just stutter?_ Gilbert never stuttered.

"Okay, so we'll work everything out tomorrow whenever you get home."

"Sure. Oh, wait, do you need a ride?"

"No thanks, I can walk to your house from here. Obviously there are still some blanks we need to fill in, but I'll bring all of my stuff and you can bring all of your stuff and we'll put them together and try to figure this thing out." A sudden idea hit her. "Hey, could you maybe take pictures of Feliciano and Ludwig now so we have something to compare them to?"

"Yeah, totally! I already took one of Ludwig, actually. Sent it in the mail yesterday."

"Great! Hopefully that arrives before I have to leave." They paused. Elizaveta got the feeling that neither of them really wanted the conversation to end. "Remember to take a picture of Feli for me, okay?"

"I'll do my best." Another pause. "So, I'll see you tomorrow, then. I'll call you when I get home so you can come over."

"N-NO, don't call, actually, can you just drop by my house and walk me to yours?"

"Uh, sure, no problem. Will Roderich be there?" _Let's hope not._

"Probably not, I'll be coming alone. Just wait on the street corner, I'll come to you."

"Alright. See you tomorrow. Bye, Liz."

"Bye."

And then she was alone once more.


	15. Chapter 15: In Front Of Me

_**AN:**_ _This is the worst thing I've ever done._

 _Well, okay, the worst thing I've ever done today._

 _Yes, I'm ashamed._

 _No, that doesn't mean I'm not proud._

* * *

 **Chapter Fifteen: In Front Of Me**

As soon as the phone call ended, Gilbert found himself at a loss for what to do. Not to mention all the complicated feelings he'd just had brought up. And so, for a few minutes, he just stared at the painting of Feliciano that he'd propped up against the wall on his desk and thought.

Liz had sounded a little off. And not 'Oh, she's tired/sick/having cramps/just not feeling great due to other circumstantial reasons, no big deal,' something was seriously wrong. She'd been emotional and jumpy, barely laughed, and something else. Something else just wasn't quite right.

She was sweet to him. Well, okay, maybe not everybody's definition of 'sweet,' but Elizaveta-sweet like he'd never heard before. _Sweet! She's never been sweet like that to me in her life. In fact, I don't think she's ever been sweet like that to anyone. Except maybe Roderich, when they first started dating._ The thought made his heart leap in hope involuntarily, just for a millisecond. But he pushed it away. If she was sweet, _to him_ of all people, something was wrong. Besides that, she'd just seemed a little upset. He didn't know why, but that wasn't the main thing he was thinking about right now. Liz was going to stay at his house. Alone. While he was there. _Why? Why why why why why? Why does she need to stay with me? Why is Roderich letting her? Oh mein Gott, what if they're having problems? But this just sounds like opening up a huge can of worms on the whole situation! Oh no, please, I don't want to get involved in this mess anymore! ..._ Who was he kidding? He lived for the drama. In fact, he already found himself perversely excited. He had no idea how all this would pan out, but he felt it in his bones, something was about to change. Something big.

 _But nevermind that. How do I get a picture of Feliciano and Ludwig together?_ A ridiculous thought occurred to him. _Is he still asleep? No, I really don't want to take any chances with his scary brother around._ A sudden knock jolted him out of his thoughts.

"Ey! Prusshit! You coming out for dinner?" _Scheisse!_ It was Romano.

"DON'T COME IN!" He shrieked, then felt his face flame as he realized how that probably came across. _Fuck! Fuck shit fuck! I definitely can't let him in now or he'll see the painting and fuck knows what he already thinks of me, I canNOT let this escalate!_ Prussia hastily stood up and bolted to the bedroom door, cracking it just a few inches and peeking his head out to respond.

"What the fuck are you doing in there?" Romano practically recoiled in disgust. It took all of his self-restraint for Prussia not to respond in a horrendously inappropriate way (e.g. "Your mom") and actually calm his racing heart down enough to answer properly.

"None of your business." He answered coolly. "And yes, The Awesome PrusSIA will be out in just a minute! Just give me a sec, okay?" Prussia slammed the door shut just as Romano started craning his neck to see into the room, his heart still racing. _What do I do? I can't just come out right now because I said I needed a minute, and I don't want to open it too quick or he'll think I was doing something weird. But if I leave the door closed, won't it look even worse? What if I just count to ten, and then open it?_ He took a deep breath. _May as well get my camera and diary to write down whatever the fuck just happened._ He gave a sudden sharp yelp as he tripped over a wrinkle in the carpet and landed flat on his chest, then groaned as he pushed himself up and huffed in annoyance, staggering and flopping down on top of his bed with a noticeable squeak of the bedsprings.

A minute or two later he emerged, and almost retreated again in mortification as he realized that Romano hadn't left. And not only had he not left, Germany, Italy, and Japan had all gathered around the doorway and had evidently been listening to the ridiculous noises he'd just been making, waiting for him to come out, if the heinously awkward expressions and avoided eye contact were any indication. Instantly his face flamed. _Scheisse._

He didn't even bother trying to explain himself after a point. Things would only get worse. Plus, he kinda figured—correctly—that nobody except Romano gave a shit. He just changed the subject. A few moments later they were all sprawled very informally around the coffee table in the kitchen with plates of the best pasta he'd had ever eaten, and nobody seemed to remember the awkward situation from earlier. A pretty big fuss was made over Prussia when Germany saw his assorted wounds, in addition to the fact that he'd tracked dust through the house, and he got even more irritated when Prussia couldn't, for the life of him, provide a reasonable explanation. And he couldn't help but notice Romano's suspicious gaze monitoring the whole affair.

Eventually Germany made him take a quick shower, change, and bandage his wounds, but that whole process had only taken a few minutes. Now they were all enjoying a casual dinner. Well, it would have been casual, if not for the overwhelming tension that was practically suffocating the room.

First, Romano kept shooting him threatening glares the whole time. And every time either Germany or Prussia opened their mouth to speak, the other one glared at them warningly, both afraid the other would relay details of their earlier conversation to the group. Besides that, anytime _anyone_ so much as looked at Italy, you could cut Romano's aura of hostility with a knife. Even so, it didn't stop them from talking. Italy, either completely oblivious or else sensing the awkwardness and wanting to correct it, would always chime in conveniently whenever things got unbearably uncomfortable.

As soon as they finished eating, Ludwig stood up. "Well, I should get back to work."

"Seriously? Business hours ended three hours ago! What could you possibly still be doing?" Gilbert asked, just as Feliciano leapt up in protest.

"Yeah! We've barely seen you! I get lonely when you're in meetings all the time." He pouted, taking hold of Ludwig's hand and leaning his head against his shoulder. Ludwig blushed at the contact with a slight smile. Gilbert grinned.

"I know… I promise I'll try to get all my work done sooner. But I have to go." He sighed.

"Wait!" Gilbert suddenly stood up. "Before you go, I want to get a picture of you both!" _Hope Feli doesn't remember that I asked him out earlier, or this could get awkward again quick._

"What? Why? Didn't you already get a picture of me yesterday?"

"Yeah, Liz wants to see how you both grew up, it's been years since she's seen you. C'mon, it'll take two seconds." He got his camera ready and positioned the three of them, holding the camera out at arm's length and wrapping his arm around his brother and Feliciano. Gilbert gave his characteristic suggestive smirk, Ludwig a rather uncharacteristic shy smile, and Feliciano an adorable wink as he reached up to give Ludwig a kiss on the cheek, flashing a peace sign. "Thanks, guys." _I almost said gays._ He chuckled at his stupid almost-slip before they all sat back down on the couch. "Liz'll love that."

"Well, I've got to get back to work." Germany sighed and stood up.

"I'm going to see if he needs help." Japan stood and followed Germany down the hall to his office.

"I should probably start cleaning." Italy stood up a second later.

"I'm gonna go take a nap." Romano rolled his eyes and left.

"I'll just stay here, then..." Prussia muttered. _I can always write a little while I'm here._ He picked up his diary, which he'd left on the table, and flipped to a fresh page. He jotted down a few paragraphs about how goofy Germany and Italy were around each other, and what his brother had told him earlier. And his conversation about Hungary. And his expedition to the basement. And his conversation _with_ Hungary. It had been a pretty eventful day.

Meanwhile, Italy started dusting. He hummed cheerily, glancing over at Prussia occasionally. Prussia barely looked up, he was so engrossed, but eventually they made eye contact. Then he looked away sheepishly, remembering the embarrassing incident earlier that day. The many embarrassing incidents, actually. Italy went back to dusting, still shooting him the odd glance. "Are you alright?"

"Oh yeah! I'm fine." There was an expectant pause. "It's just… I was wondering."

"What?" Prussia set down his diary, the page still marked open with his pen.

"Well, I'm not totally sure how close you and Germany are but I feel like you're pretty close, I know he cares about you a lot and I know you basically raised him so I guess you love him a lot too, like my brother, even though he sometimes acts kind of cranky I know he really loves me a lot and just has a kind of funny way of showing it, so I guess maybe that's how it is with you two, but anyway that's not really what I meant to say, I was just wondering how much he talks to you, and, you know, what he talks to you about, well…" He started rambling so quickly and quietly Prussia could barely catch a word he was saying. "You know what, nevermind, it's silly." Italy made a brushing-off gesture and went back to cleaning.

"No, what is it?" _Now_ he was curious.

"Nothing, it's nothing." He stopped cleaning and shook his head. "Well… Not _nothing…"_

"Spit it out! Honestly, go ahead, The Awesome Prussia judges not lest he be judged. I implemented that rule around the same time I reached the age of consent."

Italy looked momentarily confused, then disturbed, then evidently decided to just push past it. "Okay then, fine. I wanted to ask, does Germany ever talk about me? What does he say?"

"What do you want to know?" Prussia said, raising an eyebrow.

"Well, he's not exactly open with me, or with anyone really, and I was just wondering if he talked to you about… _Uhm._ " He blushed bright red. "I don't even know how to ask this, I flirt all the time but I don't even know if whatever we're doing counts! Why am I so nervous?" He groaned and put both his hands over his face. "I shouldn't have even asked!"

"No! No no no," Prussia hastily assured him. "You can ask me anything, I won't mind! And as for him not being open with you, he's warmer and friendlier with you than I've ever seen him in my life. You're obviously close."

Italy peeked out from behind his hands. "Really? We are? I always thought he was so distant!"

"No way! For West this is totally over-the-top! You don't have to worry about that at all." A relieved smile spread across Italy's face and his blush abated slightly. "Was that all you wanted to ask me?"

"Oh, um, not quite. I actually wanted to ask you," His former demeanor returned and he looked around to see if anyone nearby was listening before he whispered the next words, "Does Ludwig…Well... Does Ludwig like me?"

Gilbert froze, half-elated, half-confused. _How do I answer that? He swore me to secrecy. Okay, no problem, I'll just choose my words carefully. This is fine. My awesomeness is capable of handling any uncomfortable situation._ "He enjoys your company, and he's very fond of you." He said this after a long, meaningful pause, trying desperately to convey his true meaning with his eyes.

Feliciano appeared to be oblivious to this valiant effort. "Oh, that's nice to know, but I kind of meant… You know, _romantically._ " At this Gilbert made a great effort to feign surprise, as if he hadn't realized at all that that was what he meant.

"Oh, _romantically?_ Well, gosh, Feli, I don't know." _The hell just happened to my voice? Is that an American accent or some shit? I don't even know anymore._ "I'm not sure I can just tell you that…" He picked up his diary, then made a great show of dropping it on the floor, making sure it feel with the pages open. "Oh, _scheisse_! I just dropped my diary, completely by accident, open to a page that contains that information! Right on the floor! Where anyone could see it!"

Feliciano stared at him as if he'd just gone insane. _How much more of a hint do you need? I'm going all out here!_ As a last resort, he kicked the diary across the room so that it skidded and flopped open right at Feliciano's feet. "Oh no! Whatever shall I do? My diary, which contains _that very information which I am not supposed to tell,_ is right there, at your feet! Where you could just pick it up and read it! Right now! _Pick it up._ " He hissed. Light dawned in Feliciano's eyes and he grinned, finally getting it.

" _Ohhhhhh!_ I see what you mean." He winked. "Uh-oh, looks like you just left this open where _anyone_ could see it! Don't worry though, it's not your fault! I'm the one who read your private diary, after all."

"Yes, exactly. That's exactly right. Not my fault." He said in relief as Feliciano started scanning the opened page, bringing it close to his face to read properly.

"Oh! An entry about Miss Hungary!" _Shit!_ Prussia's eyes widened.

"Oh, uh, I wouldn't read that one, that's not very interesting—" It was too late. Italy's face had completely changed. He looked from Prussia, to the diary, and back to Prussia again. Then, seeming to make a decision, he closed the book. And his eyes.

"Well, oopsie! I saw something I shouldn't have seen, that's what I get for going through someone's personal belongings! I'll just give this straight back now, no harm done, I can never look at you quite the same way but that's fine, this is fine, please take this back, I feel really weird holding it and just want this moment to go away." He proffered the diary, eyes still closed, and Prussia took it, flushed deeply with embarrassment. _It says a lot about me that that isn't the most humiliating thing to happen to me today._ He decided to just stuff the diary between two couch cushions so it was out of sight and the situation might get at least slightly less awkward. He knew, then and there, that things would never be quite the same again. _Well, that just happened._

"Well, that just happened." Italy said, opening his eyes a few seconds after the diary had been removed from his hand and he assumed he was safe.

"It sure did. Let's not draw any more attention to it."

"Good idea." They resumed in silence, avoiding eye contact. It was worse for Prussia, because he didn't even know exactly _what_ the other had seen. Now that he really thought about it, there were at least half a dozen entries in that diary alone that he would prefer never saw the light of day. A few moments later, Feliciano spoke up again. "Um, I actually still want to know the answer to that question…" _What?_

" _What?"_ He stared at Feliciano, uncomprehending. "Oh!" _Oh! He never saw the part he was supposed to see. Then that was arguably the stupidest thing I've ever done. Today. This week. Wait, no, this hour. Still, it was pretty fucking stupid._ "Sorry, I really can't say. Brotherly confidentiality is important to me, apparently."

"Oh. Okay." Feliciano sighed and started cleaning again.

"You're a lucky guy," Gilbert said impulsively, thinking again of his earlier conversation with Elizaveta. It was strange to him how everyone else seemed to accept non-dysfunctional relationships as the norm.

"I am?" Feliciano stopped cleaning and turned to face him, puzzled.

"Yeah. Definitely." He groaned, suddenly exhausted, and flopped down on his side on the couch. _What a day._ His muscles were aching already from training. Why were his muscles aching? He was The Awesome Prussia, the warrior who could fight for weeks without tiring, why did a few laps have him exhausted?

"You okay there?" Feliciano asked in mild concern.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm just a little tired," he mumbled, "I'll get up in a minute."

"Okay." Feliciano smiled and moved off, and Gilbert closed his eyes. _I'll just rest my eyes. Just for a minute. Then I'll get up and call Liz, let her know I've got the pictures… Hear her voice…_ He didn't even realize he was nodding off. He didn't notice when Feliciano came back into the room a few minutes later, smiled, and repositioned him with a pillow supporting his head, and tossed a blanket over him.

So, naturally, he didn't notice a few minutes later when Lovino crept back into the room.

* * *

 _One-liners are what I do best, apparently._

 _"Rick Rowling's my name, one-liners are my game." (I'm sorry I'm tired please disregard any and all things said out of my face when I'm this memey)_

 _Of all the talents... Well, play the hand you're dealt, right?_

 _SO, I've been on quite a roll! Three chapters in one week? Wtf? This is probably the last one I'll be posting for a while, but that's because I'm going on a family vacation and won't have access to my laptop. I'll still be writing though, so there's a chance I might have something cool/cringey to show you guys in about two weeks. Later, dudes!_


	16. Chapter 16: Every Breath

**_AN:_** _Wow, that was a lot longer than two weeks. So much has changed. I cut my own hair. I wrote another story. I met some strange people. School hit me like a school bus. And I also had to go off the radar for a little bit. But now I'm back. For like a day. And maybe next weekend. And then I'm dropping off the radar for a while again. But anyway, great to be back and ilyasm, please validate me with reviews oki'llgonow._

* * *

 **Chapter Sixteen: Every Breath**

It was no secret that people disliked Lovino. It was known to him that he was misunderstood. He was well aware that people were constantly left wondering why he was so angry all the time.

He wasn't about to enlighten them.

* * *

Ever since he and Feliciano were kids, he'd mostly had to fend for himself. He wasn't like Feliciano, who was reliant on others for support. Not that he blamed him. If Lovino could have made a living as a maid and gotten to live in an aristocrat's house for free he would have done so, but he simply wasn't suited to the work. No, Lovino had to make his own way. Even if he did become a maid later on, he still wanted to be self-sufficient. But he was a child, after all, and there are things a child can't provide for themselves.

Still, he was the one who fought for himself. He knew when things weren't right. And Feliciano just didn't have quite the same sense for when something was wrong. He let people in too easily, and he always ended up getting himself hurt. So Lovino worried. And Feliciano worried. And worried. And worried. And then his childhood ended up being such a hardship that, from all Lovino could tell, he'd suppressed most of it and barely talked about the rest. But he still talked about _that boy_ like he didn't remember what he'd done to him. Or how much it had hurt.

But Lovino remembered.

So he knew he couldn't let his brother get hurt again.

He was sure that sneaky potato bastard had already snooped around and seen something he wasn't supposed to see. He could just feel it.

He was the brother of the bastard who broke Feliciano's heart, and Lovino knew that he was if anything even less trustworthy. From everything he'd learned about Gilbert today, he was the second-last person he wanted anywhere near Feliciano.

So, if he was doing anything unethical, if he had any ulterior motives at all, Lovino knew he couldn't just let him go through with whatever he was planning to do. He felt more than justified. And he was afraid that Gilbert already knew too much. He had to find out exactly how much.

Lovino knew he kept a diary. He was sure Feliciano had mentioned it in passing, plus, he'd seen it out earlier. Right on the coffee table. It wasn't there now, though, which was confusing. As far as Lovino knew, Gilbert had never left the room, and had just fallen asleep on the couch. _Typical inebriated potato bastard?_ No way to be sure, but it seemed likely.

He scouted the room briefly, creeping around as quietly as he could. There was no diary on the table. There was no diary on the floor. As far as he could tell, there was no diary. But he'd _seen_ it. He knew it was there.

Suddenly his eyes were drawn to an object wedged between the couch cushions, poking out from under the blanket. A book. It had to be it. The only problem was, Gilbert was lying on top of it.

 _Okay, how do I do this?_ Barely breathing, he knelt down and reached out, grabbing the diary between his thumb and forefinger and giving it a gentle tug. Nothing. He tugged again, but Gilbert seemed not to feel. Except, Lovino realized, he couldn't pull the diary out any further without moving him. _Dammit._ He stood up partway, then, making as little contact as humanly possible, he carefully pushed aside the blanket and pushed Gilbert onto his side. He moaned, almost causing Lovino to yelp, but he bit his tongue and pushed him a little further, still barely nudging his shoulder to move him.

 _"Harder!"_

 _"What the fuck?"_ He leaped back about six feet, sliding backwards over the coffee table and knocking over a stack of magazines. Miraculously, Gilbert seemed to hear nothing, just kept on talking, not even opening his eyes.

"Is that the hardest you've got?"

"W-what?"

"Wait, no! I can't breathe."

"I never touched you!"

"I want you to show me the birds."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"The birds. I like birds. Cheep cheep, cheep..." _Oh! He's a sleep-talker! Just like Feli. Thank God. Okay, this is fine, I know how to deal with this. He's in a deep sleep and probably can't actually hear me. I've just got to get the diary and get the hell out of here._ Carefully, he nudged Gilbert up and reached, almost wrenching the diary out from under him. "Nooo..." Gilbert moaned. "My awesome weapons..."

"Feli's a much better sleep talker than you are," Lovino said, oddly smug. "He's way easier to understand." He rolled his eyes and walked a few feet away, flicked the diary open, and started reading. Immediately, he shut it again as he realized that the entries were all written in German. _Fuck. Now what?_

His gaze wandered to the nearby bookshelf, skimming the titles. There were quite a few language books. Italian to English, German to English, English to some language he didn't even recognize. Then it fell on a book labeled _Deutch-Italiano/Italiano-Deutch_. Perfect.

A few minutes later he was flipping through entries, infuriatingly slowly, but most of them

were short enough for him to understand, though not particularly interesting to him. Most of them seemed to be about people who he'd never met in person, only vaguely recognized the names of. Someone called Liz ( _What a strange name… I think I know someone with a name sort of like that…_ ) was in it a lot of them. But soon he got to today's entry, and it was longer. And extremely complicated. But soon he understood.

Somehow, through intuition or incompetence, Gilbert had realized that Ludwig and Feliciano had known each other when they were much younger and had apparently both forgotten it. Lovino wasn't sure he believed all that, or even understood it properly, but he'd always known who Ludwig was. He kind of just assumed everyone else did too. It didn't change much, though.

A good half an hour after he started reading, constantly worried Gilbert would suddenly wake up and ask what the fuck he was doing, he finally translated the most recent entry well enough to know what he needed, and he was even angrier than before. He had to do something. Anything. He couldn't let his brother get hurt again.

And, almost before he realized it, he'd put down the book, crept into Gilbert's room, and found the painting. The style was unmistakable. It wasn't his brother's, but he could see the influence. He knew exactly how this painting came to be. And if Feliciano ever saw it, it would destroy him.

So, without ever stopping to think what he was doing or if it was a good idea, he took everything mentioned in the diary off of Gilbert's desk table and carried the whole thing into the kitchen and stuffed it haphazardly into a garbage bag. He'd probably never looked more suspicious in his life, glancing around furtively in the dim house, sneaking through the hallways with a lumpy black garbage bag slung over his shoulder. He had to get out of here. But he had to let his brother know he was leaving, or he'd worry.

"Lovi!" He almost jumped out of his skin as he rounded the corner to Feliciano's room and ran straight into him. "Why are you holding a bag?" Lovino hid it guiltily behind his back.

"Nothing! I mean, don't worry about it! I'm just leaving to go home now and wanted to say goodbye."

"Oh, really? But it's already dark out, are you sure you don't just want to stay the night and go home in the morning? I want you to stay safe."

"I'll be fine, I just wanna go home now. Don't worry about me, I'll be fine. Call soon, okay?" He put an arm on Feliciano's shoulder and gave him a quick double kiss on each cheek. "Stay safe."

"Love you." Feliciano pouted. "Bye."

"You too. See you later."

A few tense minutes later he'd escaped the house and stuffed the whole bag in his bike basket, praying that it wouldn't tip and he wouldn't end up face-first in the pavement as he pedaled down the hill. He was just about to zoom off in the direction of his house when a sudden thought occurred to him. He couldn't hide the painting and the other miscellaneous contents of the bag at his house because Feliciano could find them easily if he came over. Besides which, it was already dangerously dark out and the path to his house was treacherous on a bike at night. "So what am I supposed to do?" He muttered to himself. "Do I go to a friend's house? But the only person who lives close enough is..."

 _Oh. Oh no._ He groaned at the very thought. _No, he can't be the only one close enough. Anybody else. It couldn't have been anybody else?_

But he was already on his way.

* * *

Ten minutes later, Romano, garbage bag full of evidence in hand, walked up the front steps of his friend's stately house. He knocked, twice, and rang the doorbell. A minute later, Belgium answered.

 _Dammit!_ His face flamed. He wasn't prepared for this. Romano looked away involuntarily. _Dammit, dammit, dammit…_

"Lovi?" She looked at him a little more closely. "Is that you?"

He nodded mutely, unable to speak. _What am I, ten years old?_ He forced himself to look her in the eye. He noticed for the first time that she was in stunning shimmering green evening dress. "C-ciao, Belgium. How are you?" His voice was an octave higher than usual. _No, apparently I'm five. For fuck's sake, it's been years since—_

"Well, thanks, are you alright? Did you come to see Spain?"

"Y-yes, I didn't know you'd be here." He blushed again. "Not that I mind seeing you, obviously. You look lovely, not that I'm looking, I mean not that I'm not looking, obviously I have eyes so I can see you and I'm looking but I'm not _looking,_ I mean… I'm here to see Spain, but I saw you instead, and it was very nice, nice to see you, hello again. But anyway, I wanted to ask him something, a-a favor, um, could you get him, please?" _Okay, not bad. I only stuttered twice. Wait, what am I saying? Is that the bar I'm setting for myself? And what the fuck was all that rambling shit? 'Oh, nice to see you, not that I'm looking,' shut the fuck up. Ugh. Why am I so awkward around girls?_

"Sure, no problem, Lovi, come on in. What's in that bag?" She leaned down to pick it up.

"Oh, nothing! Well, nothing important. Just get Spain, please." He cleared his throat. _Well, this is probably the worst time I could have possibly showed up. At least he's not having a dinner party or anything_.

"Okay, let me at least take your jacket," She unzipped his leather jacket and slipped it off his shoulders, then hung it on a hook by the door. "Antonio? Romano's here to see you!" She hurried off and left him standing there in a thin cotton shirt with a purely disproportionate amount of butterflies in his stomach.

"Th-th-thank you." He muttered as she walked off and ran a hand through his hair in exasperation. _Why do I always do this? I swear, every time—_

"Romano?" _Shit._

"Um, hi..." He forced himself to pull it together for a minute to face Antonio and find the words to explain himself. But he was momentarily distracted. Antonio was staring at him in disbelief. Romano couldn't quite speak yet, sidetracked as he took in details of his appearance. Antonio was dressed unusually formally, in a black blazer and a dark blue satiny V-neck. Looking behind him, further into the house, he saw that the dining room was set with candles. _Oh my God, this is a date._

"Are you alright?"

"Why does everyone keep asking me that?" He snapped, instantly irritable.

"Just asking, jeez, at least I know it's you. What's up?" He asked, with the clear subtext of _why the fuck didn't you call first?_

"Look, I'm sorry, I didn't realize you had company. But I seriously need a favor. It won't take long, I promise, I just need someplace to put this bag!" He picked up the garbage bag and proffered it. Antonio recoiled with a yelp.

"What the fuck?! Is there a body in there?!"

"No! And keep your voice down, please!" Lovino hissed, remembering Antonio's guest was probably still very near.

"Why should I believe you, huh? You've always been unpredictable! I'm not going to hide a body for you!"

"What do you mean, you not going to hide a body for me?" Lovino demanded, suddenly indignant. "After all the cleaning I did for you, all the years I was your servant, all the farming your precious _tomatoes,_ typical tomato bastard, I knew I should never have come!" He made a grab for the bag, but Antonio reached it first.

"Who's not going to hide a body for you?" Belgium asked from the kitchen.  
"Antonio, because he doesn't understand the value of friendship! And it's not a body, it's just a garbage bag, and no, you can't see what's inside." The last sentence was directed at Antonio.

"That's not very nice, Antonio, how can you say that to such a dear friend?"

"It's not like I said I wouldn't give him an organ!"

"Well, would you?"

"No!"

"Why the hell not?" Lovino demanded. "First you won't hide a body for me and now you won't save me from a horrible death? Wow, what a great friend! And it's not a body!" He said the last part very loudly for the benefit of everyone.

"Hey, calm down! You show up here in practically the middle of the night without telling anyone and the only thing you're carrying is a garbage bag, what am I supposed to think?!" He started loosening the drawstrings of the bag and Lovino made a lunge for it.

"Something else! Give that back!"

"If it's not a body, why can't I see it?" Antonio demanded.

"Because—I—It's just some stuff I don't want my brother to find, it's nothing illegal or anything—" Abruptly he realized that stealing was illegal. "Wait, no, no, scratch that, it's just nothing shady, you just have to trust me. I promise you won't get into any trouble for this, but I might, so I just need someplace to hide it for a little while until I find somewhere better, can't I please just put it in the shed or something?"

"At least tell me what's in it first."

"Nothing, just a painting and some shit, I swear, I just need someplace other than my house to put it. Please will you just let me keep it here?"

Antonio seemed to be relenting. "Okay. As long as you promise this isn't anything shady."

"I promise! Can I please just put it away now?"

"I guess…" Antonio still looked uneasy, but didn't seem to be about to argue any more. Lovino decided to take his chance while he had it and hurried past him through the house to deposit the bag in the shed in the garden, then hurried back, snagging his collar on a rose bush that hadn't been there the last time he'd been here. He got back in less than five minutes.

"All done!" He announced once he'd returned. "Sorry I disrupted your evening."

"Don't worry about it." Antonio said, and Lovino noticed that his whole demeanor had changed.

"What's wrong? Did something happen while I was gone?" Abruptly, he realized that Belgium seemed to have disappeared. "Where's your ladyfriend?"

"She left. She took a call right after you stepped outside and said she had an emergency at home." He sulked.

"Oh, sorry..." Lovino found himself at a loss for what to say. "Well, I'll be going now."

"Wait." Antonio said, just as he was reaching for his coat. "Do you have somewhere else to be?"

"Not really." Lovino shrugged. "Why?"

"I was wondering, if neither of us has anything else to do, would you like to maybe stay for a drink?"

Lovino was caught off his guard. "What? You mean, just the two of us?"

"Yeah, why not?"

"Well…" Lovino paused, trying to think. He really didn't have anything better to do, and he wasn't really looking forward to making his way by bike down the steep hill leading to his house at this hour. And the offer of a drink was tempting. He could always leave right afterward if he felt like it. And, if he didn't…

 _What's the harm?_ He eventually decided.

"Yes. Yes, that would be nice."

He almost smiled.


	17. Chapter 17: Every Hour

_**AN:**_ _Oh my... Something tells me I might regret this one. See how many terrible jokes you can spot! Also, if any classmates happen to see this... Hello and welcome, this is something I enjoy for strange reasons._

 _This chapter is going to come back to bite me some day._

 **Chapter Seventeen: Every Hour**

It usually took Gilbert a while to figure out where he was when he woke up, so this was nothing unusual. Today, he was on a couch. He had something to do, what was it again? _Oh yes, call Liz. Why?_ Probably the usual reason. And then, suddenly, it all came back to him, and he practically bolted to his room, then bolted back out again, suddenly panicking.

 _Shit. Shiiiiit. Shit._ He had no fucking idea what happened to the painting, the photos, key, shield, cloak, drawings, notes, everything, it was all fucking gone. He had to tell Liz, but how could he explain that the reason he wasn't bringing the other half of the puzzle for them to compare was that he'd fucking lost it? Where did he put it? He had been so sure it was all left neatly organized right on the table, but now, the table was completely empty, and there wasn't any trace whatsoever that any of it had ever existed.

 _Shit!_ Now he was running around his room in a panic, looking for something, anything, that they could still use. He could take another set of photos, he supposed, but without the painting to compare, would Liz even be able to recognize any of it? Maybe if he posed them very carefully… _No, probably not. I've just got to tell her I don't know what the fuck happened._ He took a few deep, calming breaths, which actually weren't helpful and just made him cough, and then sat down at the phone and dialed Liz's house.

She picked up after one ring. "Gilbert?" She practically whispered in greeting.

"Yes, it's The Awesome Prussia." He found himself whispering back.

"Great. Are we to expect any trouble transporting the evidence?"

"Ooh, yeah, about that…" He winced. "Maybe, somewhat."

"Is there a problem?"

"Well, that depends. How do you define 'problem'?"

" _Problem._ Noun. Main byproduct of Gilbert Beilschmidt."

"Hey! Too mean."

"Example: 'Gilbert was here earlier. He may have caused a problem.'"

"That was two sentences. That's not how dictionaries work."

"It's from the urban edition."

"That doesn't make any sense."

"What's the problem?"

"Your dictionary?"

"No, the other one."

"Oh. Well, there might be some slight trouble on my end. With the evidence, I mean.

"You _have_ got it, right?" Hungary sounded—correctly—suspicious.

"I _did._ Have it, that is. But now, I _don't._ "

"What do you mean?" Her voice was heavy with dread and exasperation.

"I had it a moment ago. Now it's not here." There was a long pause.

"So… What? You lost it?"

"Yes."

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, I lost it." He said through his teeth. "Somehow."

"What the fuck do you mean, you _lost_ it? How did you lose it?"

"I don't know!" Prussia exclaimed defensively. "It was there yesterday. I left my room for dinner, it was still there. I go back in this morning, it's gone! I looked everywhere!"

"How the hell do you lose an entire painting and a tapestry?" Hungary demanded. "What happened to it? Did it just walk away by itself?" Another thought seemed to occur to her. "Didn't you sleep in your room? What happened?" She broke off for a second as a thought seemed to occur to her. "Ah, what the fuck?! Did you sleep with somebody else? _Ewwwwwww_ , who else is even there? I swear, Prussia, if you slept with Feli—"

"Jesus!" Even he was appalled. "I have got some concept of 'bro code'. What the fuck do you think I do over here?"

"I don't know, what else was I supposed to think?"

"Anything else!" He suddenly felt quite hot about the face. He didn't want her to think he was sleeping around. Or did he? Shit, he didn't even know anymore.

"Well, sorry." Hungary seemed to calm herself down a little. "What happened, then?"

* * *

"I—" He paused, sounding embarrassed, then apparently decided he didn't care. "I fell asleep on the couch."

Hungary rolled her eyes, secretly relieved. At least he hadn't—

"But I don't know what happened! I swear it was all there and I looked everywhere this morning and it's gone. I don't know what I did. I don't know what to do. Should I still come home?"

Elizaveta took a deep breath, trying to think. "Okay. You know what? It's fine. We both fucked up. You lost the information, but I still need someplace to stay, and I can't stay at your house without you there. I only have keys to the basement. Can you still come home?"

"I think I keep the window on the third floor open sometimes."

"Gil, I'm wearing a long skirt."

"Can't you change?"

"I'm not climbing through the window."

"Why the fuck not? You don't usually have trouble with that kind of thing, you're almost as athletic as I am."

"I've always been more athletic than you, I'm just not climbing into your fucking window today."

"Why? You chicken?"

"No, I'm wearing tights, jackass."  
"How does that make a difference?"

"I've seen your window, the only way up is by climbing the rose trellis."

"So?"  
"When we get there you can put on my skirt and corset and try it out for yourself."

"That sounds hot."

"Roderich would agree. Will you please just come and let me in through the front door?"

"Okay, okay, I'll come home."

"Thanks. See you soon."

Gilbert paused. "No problem. See you."

"Bye."

Elizaveta hung up the phone. She felt even lonelier now, but she couldn't dwell on it. She had to get ready, and there was a still a lot to do. Ever since the argument with Roderich, she'd basically been hiding out in the study, although she'd snuck out twice to get food from the kitchen and a few other things. She didn't have a bed in here anymore; she slept on the floor, slumped against the door with Gilbert's jacket tossed over her like a blanket. She'd also tried and failed to take her corset off a few times, but it turned out it was next to impossible for her to do by herself. She'd succeeded in loosening it enough to sleep, but only for a few minutes at a time. She felt like she was in some kind of cage.

Regardless, she had to go on and make sure she had everything she would need. Elizaveta had done almost everything she needed to do during the night, but she still had one important thing to do. She had to write a note to Roderich, explaining that she was safe and just needed some time away from him.

What could she say? Her pencil tapped at the desk, then, hesitantly, she started scratching a few words on a sheet of paper. Her handwriting was labored and slanting, and her words came unnaturally, but they came, letter by letter.

 _R_ —

 _I'm going away for a while. I'm staying with a friend. I need some time away. Don't worry about me, I'll be safe._

— _E_

It felt strange, not ending the note with "I love you," but she wasn't sure she could. Every time she'd tried, her wrist froze and her hand cramped. She couldn't write it, not yet, not right now.

No, now she had other things on her mind.

* * *

Gilbird pecked at his human's hand critically, staring up at Gilbert in puzzlement. Gilbert jolted out of his daze and stared back down at his feathered friend, trying to make at least some kind of sense of everything that had happened in the last twenty-four hours. It all felt like some weird, oddly unsettling dream, and parts of it were missing altogether, blocked out by embarrassment. He decided not to think about them, just focus on the task at hand. He had to pack, say goodbye to his brother and his friends, catch a train, and somehow prepare himself to see his very best friend in the world without breaking down. He already felt like he had failed her. But he had to see her, for whatever reason. She'd actually asked for his help, so he knew things must have been dire, though he knew not how.

But this concerned him even more. Elizaveta had asked to stay at his house. _His_. And she was coming by herself, presumably without Roderich knowing, and would be spending the night. Possibly several. At _his house_. _Alone_.

 _What the fuck?_ Gilbert suddenly felt an utterly foreign sensation spreading through his abdomen. Not unpleasant, but strange, almost a _fluttering,_ almost like...

 _Butterflies!_

He had fucking butterflies. He, The Awesome Prussia, who had fought in the Seven Weeks War without faltering. He, who had unified the German Empire with his military's strength. That same Prussia who had been formed so long ago by an order of knights tempered through battle after battle, had butterflies in his stomach.

* * *

An hour or two later, he gave his brother a final hug in farewell. Gilbert was a little distracted, but he didn't think anybody noticed. Ludwig just patted his shoulder and told him to be safe, Feliciano gave him the customary goodbye double kiss. Kiku wasn't anywhere to be seen yet, apparently. Anyway, soon enough he was off to catch a train. Something at the back of his mind left him unsettled, but he couldn't be sure what it was, he just had the vague impression that something had been a little off. Still, he had more pressing matters to think about at the moment, like what _the hell_ was happening at Liz and Roderich's house.

All the way to the train station, and during the journey, he kept thinking about it. He didn't know how, but their marriage must be in trouble. Why would Liz need somewhere to stay otherwise? A stab of guilt made him suddenly uneasy. What if he'd caused it?

As he sat in his booth, waiting for his train to depart, words said earlier popped back into his mind. They swirled, a mess of dialogue and thoughts and feelings, mesmerizing yet defying interpretation. Something his brother had said stood out. _You know she's chosen someone else and it would be wrong to interfere with her life as long as she is safe and happy. You know you can't ever act on your feelings._ He knew. He knew. He knew that was true. As long as she was safe and happy. It would be wrong. It would be wrong.

 _BUT WHAT IF SHE ISN'T?_ A voice inside his head was screaming, over the din of the other thoughts. _WHAT IF SHE ISN'T HAPPY?_

 _It's still wrong._

 _WHY?_

 _Because—It doesn't matter! It's not like I can ever act on it anyway!_

 _WHY NOT?_

 _Because it's not who I am!_

 _YOU ALWAYS ACT ON STUFF._

 _Not this kind! I can't tell her this, ever! She's my friend, and in case you forgot, she's married! And I never wanted to marry her!_

 _Do you now?_

 _What?_

 _Do you?_

" _Shut up!"_ He hissed out loud, eliciting a few odd looks from people sitting near him. Gilbert turned over and stared out the window, glowering. _Stupid subconscious. Don't I have enough to worry about?_

His subconscious evidently conceded his point. Gilbert wasn't sure if he should be comforted by that, but he was glad not to be thinking about questions he really didn't want to answer. The rest of the train ride was comparatively peaceful. In fact, he slept. And he dreamed. He dreamed someone was pushing him, fighting him off, trying to take something he was holding… He woke up feeling almost violated, but he had no idea why. He was still puzzling over this when he realized that the train had just pulled into his station. He had to get off.

* * *

Now, of all times, he must not permit himself to be distracted. For whatever reason, Liz needed him, and he needed to be there for her. Nothing could keep him from doing that. As her friend, as someone who once pretended he didn't love her, he had to be there. He had to do something. He honestly thought he would do anything for her sake.

After arriving at his own station, he realized that it was dark and a drizzle of rain was already coming down. Gilbert hadn't brought a jacket, and his white cotton button-down shirt was already soaked. Oh well, he was almost home anyway. He'd just stop by the Austro-Hungarian estate and pick up Elizaveta, then he'd be home in an hour or so and could change.

The manor, impressive as always but starting to show signs of aging and decay, loomed ahead of him from several blocks away. Almost all the windows were dark, except for two on the ground floor. If memory served correctly, they were the piano room and the room nearest the front door. Gilbert frowned in concentration as he tried to remember the particular instructions Elizaveta had given him for when he got to the house. Was he supposed to knock? Or come around to the back? Or maybe call in from the payphone—No, she had specifically told him not to call her first, he was pretty sure. But why? It would be much easier for him to decide what to do if he knew what the actual situation at home was, but she refused to tell him. What if she was in actual danger? Grim possibilities started flooding through his mind, as they had done on the train, only more vivid, and they only felt stronger as he got nearer to the house. He didn't know how to deal with this when he wasn't even sure which door to knock on or what to do if Roderich answered.

Then again, he was pretty strong and quick-witted enough to handle himself in almost any situation, he was sure of that. He had no reason to be nervous. Not that he was nervous, or anything. Maybe he should just knock on the front door and take his chances.

Something told him it might be a good idea to drop his suitcases just inside the gates in case he had to leave quickly. Gilbert walked up to the door, pausing for a moment, his hand hovering over the knocker. Less than a week ago he had been banned, in no uncertain terms, from this house entirely. Was this really a good idea?

Before he could make a decision, a crackle of thunder startled him half out of his skin, and he looked up to see a fresh flash of lightning glowing harshly in the distance. In his moment of panic, he made an awkward lunge at the door and ended up rattling the knocker several times. Gilbert composed himself just in time, ready to greet Elizaveta with what he hoped was a comforting smirk, when Roderich answered the door.

"Good evening— _oh, crap!"_ Roderich's face instantly fell when he saw Gilbert standing there. He actually turned to slam the door in his face. "I thought you left town!"

"Wait!" Gilbert just managed to jam his hand in the door and pry it open with his awesome natural strength. "Can I please come in? It's pretty rude to refuse someone at your door when they've come all this way in the middle of a rainstorm, you know!"

"Fine! I suppose it doesn't matter anymore. Don't create puddles on the floor." Roderich scoffed and turned away from him, retreating back into the house. "What brings you here, anyway?" Just then, Elizaveta came creeping along the darkened adjacent hallway that led to some of the bedrooms, then drew back hastily as she realized what was going on, making panicky gestures and shaking her head rapidly, mouthing ' _No, no, no!'_ over and over. Well, as if that wasn't clear enough.

 _Shit!_ Several things clicked in his mind at this moment. One, that Liz definitely hadn't told Roderich she was leaving. Which, by extension, meant that she was lying to him, at least by omission. Which, by further extension, meant that Gilbert was also lying to him, which, by yet further extension, meant that he'd better come up with a good lie to tell him, and quick!

"Don't you know?" He improvised. "I thought it was obvious." He mustered up his usual swagger, giving Roderich a full-on smirk as he turned back around to face him. Roderich simply stared down his glasses at him, a borderline glare and refreshingly full of snark.

"No, explain yourself." He frowned.

"Well, I'm here…" He glanced at Elizaveta and was met with frantic 'no' gestures again. "To see you, of course," he finished smoothly, looking Roderich dead in the eyes. Out of the corner of his eye he was faintly aware of Elizaveta frantically hopping up and down, shaking her head. _Oops, guess that was the wrong answer. Why, though?_ Even though he was kind of distracted at the moment, he couldn't help but notice how Elizaveta was looking. Just seeing her out of the corner of his eye, he could tell she wasn't feeling well. She seemed way smaller than usual, way too thin, looking sickly and exhausted. He wondered what on earth had her in such a state. Suddenly, he realized the air had grown prickly tense.

"To see me? Why?" Roderich didn't quite break the eye contact, but somehow, Gilbert was aware of a phantom gaze travelling down. _What's he doing? Oh…!_ He blinked twice, then smirked.

"You know why." _No! No, no no!_ Elizaveta was glaring at him, and he was pretty sure he sensed her meaning. _You're about to get yourself in big, big trouble!_ He ignored her. Gilbert had suddenly become aware of just how he looked right now, in his rain-soaked white shirt and tight black pants clinging to his skin, water droplets clinging to his hair. He leaned against a wall, making sure the contours of his body were outlined clearly by the dripping white fabric, reciprocating Roderich's downward gaze.

 _You don't know what you're doing!_ Elizaveta was mouthing frantically. He just smirked at her too. Oh, he knew exactly what he was doing. And he was pretty awesome at it, if he did say so himself. Even if it had been a while.

 _Fine! Fuck it! Just distract him while I leave!_ Gilbert nodded imperceptibly, not breaking the smirk. He already had a gameplan.

"Listen, Roderich," he said, his voice as smooth as honey, "I think we both know what's about to happen. We've been putting it off for a long time. There's no point fighting anymore. I know I've done you wrong before, but tonight I want to do you right. The only question is if you'll let bygones be bygones long enough for me to make it up to you. Chances are I'll spend most of the night on my knees, begging for a lot more than forgiveness." He left a slow, succulent pause, reveling in the tension he'd created. "That is, if you're up for it." Roderich's jaw had dropped. He swallowed uncertainly, no longer even keeping up the pretense of eye contact, his gaze directed firmly elsewhere. _Heh, I've still got it. I wonder if I didn't go a little bit too far; don't want to be making promises I can't keep._ Elizaveta was nowhere to be seen, which was good; it made his job a lot easier. "Well?" He asked, sauntering a little closer.

Roderich looked away uncertainly, clearing his throat. "I'm happily married."

"I think your wife won't mind, just this once. I'll make it up to her, too." He would have said anything. Right now, though, he hardly needed to. Roderich met his eyes again and a deep vermillion flush crept into his cheeks.

"You must be drunk. I hope you don't intend to drive."

"Nuh-uhn, I'm sober as a judge, babe. And I've got the feeling you've had some guilty thoughts." A loud snicker came from somewhere behind him, and Gilbert felt his face flame. He hoped he was able to pass it off as a sexy blush. Well, regardless of what Elizaveta thought, his lines were working just fine on Roderich so far. Still, he had to cover for Liz.

"C'mon, it doesn't have to go anywhere you don't want it to go, just give me a chance. You have full control. Of everything." He added, with the tiniest of winks.

"Well…" Roderich trailed off for a moment, avoiding Gilbert's determined gaze. Then, without any warning whatsoever, kissed him with a fervor he had never displayed before. Almost before he even knew what was happening he found himself backed against a wall, and Roderich was already trying to lift him up, but he'd never been able to do that in the old days and he still couldn't now. For a fleeting instant Gilbert wondered if Roderich was able to pick Elizaveta up like this when they— _if_ they— _Nevermind!_

He was really struggling, and if Gilbert let this go on much longer it would definitely ruin the mood. Which was, he supposed, not a terrible thing to happen, but he needed to give Elizaveta a bit more time to escape. Plus, all things being equal, it had been a long time since he'd been kissed like that. A _long_ time. Without really meaning to, he was certainly enjoying it for the moment. So he had to do something about it.

Breaking the kiss, Gilbert murmured, "Should we take this into the piano room?" Roderich nodded faintly, pulling away just for a moment. _At least he isn't trying to hold me up anymore._ Gilbert slumped back down in relief, automatically returning his expression to the most seductive smirk he could manage. "Here we go again. Just like old times."

"Yeah, just like old times, you wouldn't shut up." Roderich muttered, grabbing him by the wrist and practically dragging him into the adjacent room.

"You know I make a lot of noise anyway."

"Don't wake the neighbors."

"You can talk."

"At least I don't scream, I'm careful to be quiet.

"Well, somebody has to be the careful one." He muttered, teasing, as they entered the next room. His mind was working on overdrive, scanning the room, taking in the all-important open window and formulating an excuse this very millisecond. Just in time, he found one. "Speaking of being careful..." Roderich rolled his eyes with a tiny sigh, then smiled.

"Always so particular."

"Safety first!" He said brightly.

"I'll be right back." Roderich turned and walked off in the direction Elizaveta had originally come from, and Gilbert hoped she'd changed course. If she hadn't, nobody could say he hadn't done his best. It was time to leave.

"I'll be waiting," he said sweetly, then, as soon as he was sure Roderich had left, he ran to the window and stuck his head out, scanning the garden for Elizaveta. She waved to him frantically, beckoning him to come down.

"What, you can't climb into my window, but you can climb out of yours? Where'd you even come from?"

"I came out the back door, you idiot! Come on, hurry, get down here before he sees us!"

"What, and just leave him? That seems kinda mean."

"Exactly how far were you planning to go with him tonight? Were you even here to pick me up at all, or was this always what you wanted?"

"Okay, I think this might have expired, I can't read the label," Roderich called from the hall. "Does that matter?"

"Uh, depends what it is? Lemme see," Gilbert called, then hissed back to Elizaveta, "Listen, this wasn't my plan, okay? He fucking jumped on me!"

"Oh, yeah, of course, he wasn't provoked at all, I'm sure this—" She mimicked his seductive stance against the wall and did a rather spot-on impression of his gleeful smirk— "Was completely natural!"

"I can't help the fact that I'm just that attractive! It's not his fault either, anyone would fall for it!"

"There is some pretty firm evidence, such as the fact that you've gone conveniently single for about six and a half decades now, suggesting otherwise. Now get down here, quick!"

"Just give me half an hour!"

"Thirty seconds!"

"Gilbert?"

" _Fuck! I'll be right back!"_ He retreated from the window and quickly composed himself, just as Roderich returned, squinting at the label on a package.

"What does this say?"

Gilbert went over to help him read it. " Are you serious? Maybe you really do need glasses, jeez." He squinted at it and held it up to the light. "Roderich?"

"Yes?"

"This is a tea packet."

"I told you you were making a mistake!" Elizaveta hissed.

"What was that?" Roderich asked, looking around for the source of the voice.

"I didn't hear anything! Um, I don't think this is what you meant to get, could you try again? Because _this is a tea packet." An expired tea packet. Where did this even come from?_

"Oh! Oh, yes, of course. Yes, I'll be right back," Roderich said, flustered, grabbing the box of tea bags and hurrying away again.

"Take your time." Gilbert muttered after him, returning to the window.

"What the hell is taking so long?" Elizaveta demanded.

"Just go! It might take me awhile to get out of here, I'll meet you out front."

"What the fuck ever. My life is total shit."

"Okay, okay, I'll be out there, just give me a second."

"Is this the right box?"

"Aren't you forgetting something?" It was just a random guess, but apparently a correct one, because Roderich turned straight around and disappeared again. "Okay, I'll just wait here." Out the window he hissed, "I'm on my way!"

* * *

At the next opportunity, as soon as Roderich looked away, Gilbert dived headfirst out the window and tucked into a roll onto the lawn, breaking into a full sprint as soon as he landed on his feet, never stopping until he'd skirted around the house and was keeping pace with Elizaveta as they both ran down the street, each carrying their luggage while the rain pelted down on them. He was already feeling pretty shaky from the whole day, what better thing to do than sprint a mile and a half to his house? They didn't look back until they'd already cleared the neighborhood.

Finally, Gilbert panted to a stop, gasping for breath. Elizaveta collapsed against him, wheezing and shuddering. The first thing he said, as soon as he got enough air back into his lungs, was a labored, shaky, "YOU'RE WELCOME!" before Gilbert collapsed onto his back on the sidewalk, Elizaveta flopping straight down on top of him and winding him even worse.

"THANK YOU... for… seducing... my husband!" She gasped, panting on top of him, her hair falling over her face. "Whatever... Would I... do... Without you!" She beat his chest with an exhausted, limp little fist, too short of breath to summon any real conviction into it.

"Probably… Your husband… More… Often…" He couldn't resist saying. She slapped him.

"I hate you! How do you always do this?"

"Not… Exactly… Difficult, now was it?" He panted, summoning a grin in spite of himself.

"Shut up!" She punched him in the gut. "Oh, they're gonna have a field day with this fuckery in the divorce court." That caught his attention. He stopped laughing.

"The divorce court?" Gilbert sat up in alarm. "I didn't realize anything was wrong!"

"The fact that my husband was an inch away from sleeping with you didn't tip you off?"

"Well, before that…" He sighed, finally getting his breath back, and stood up. He pulled Elizaveta to her feet and shook his head, the enormity of the situation finally starting to sink in as the adrenaline faded and they started limping along the sidewalk, literally leaning on each other for support. "Oh, God, things have gotten really bad, haven't they?"

"Not as bad as they're about to get." Elizaveta said, without looking up.

"What do you mean?" Gilbert stopped and turned to face her. She looked up at him with watery green eyes, her face wet from the rain drizzling onto them both. But when Gilbert looked closer, he realized that her face was streaked with tears as well. "Liz…" He murmured, cupping her face in his hands. "Are you crying?" She just stared at him, her eyes welling up even more, tears spilling fresh and hot onto her cheeks. "Oh—! Oh, Liz…" He brushed the tears away with his fingers, but they kept coming. Not just tears, either; huge wracking sobs that shook her whole body. "Liz!" He cried in shock. As long as he'd known her, Gilbert had never once seen Elizaveta cry. Or if he had, never more than a single vulnerable tear at a time. Nothing like this. And he didn't know how to respond. So he just did the first thing that popped into his head; he hugged her. Pulled her close to him so that her head was resting on his shoulder and he could feel every sob shaking her body, so tiny compared to his now. Having her this close was making his heart quicken even as he tried to comfort her. "Liz, Liz, Liz… I'm sorry. I didn't realize what was going on. I think I still don't. But we can't just stand here in the rain, you need rest. C'mon, we're almost there." They could see his house from where they were; it was only a few more blocks.

"Okay…" Elizaveta sniffed and pushed herself away from him, momentarily resting her hands on his chest and looking up at him. "Okay, you're right. I… I'm fine. Let's go." She dropped her hands to her sides, wobbling uncertainly on her feet until Gilbert put a gentle arm around her shoulder to steady her, and they walked as the rain continued to beat down around them.

When they got to his door, he fumbled in his suitcase pocket for his keys and unlocked it for her. She stepped inside wordlessly, set her own suitcases and his down in the front room, and shivered once Gilbert stepped inside and she heard a crack of thunder in the distance. "Hey! You're shivering, you must be freezing. Let me take your coat, I'll get you a towel and some dry clothes to change into, just wait here a sec." As he paused and looked closely at the jacket for the first time, it seemed oddly familiar. He leaned in to inspect it more closely, then looked at Liz in surprise. "Is this my jacket?"

"Oh, um…" She avoided his eye. "Yes. I borrowed it from you."

"Really? When?"

"A while back. I think I meant to return it."

"Oh." He shrugged, vaguely uncomfortable. "You might as well keep it."

He helped her out of the soaking garment and hung it on a peg by the door, realizing that the water had seeped right through her dress. Realizing, from an objective standpoint, of course. Inferring that she must be cold. Friendly. Helpful.

She nodded blankly and walked off in the direction of the living room. "Thanks. I'll just take the couch, if that's okay."

"No, I'll take the couch, you can sleep on the bed," Gilbert called from his bedroom, grabbing a set of his own pajamas for her. They might be a little big, but there wasn't much he could do about it. Glancing down, he realized his wet shirt was making him a bit chilly, so he unbuttoned it. Then he went back out into the living room, and nearly dropped everything he was carrying when he realized Elizaveta had stripped down to her corset and underskirt.

She was standing there, wet from the rain, with bare arms and exposed clavicle and her hair pulled back, wearing nothing below her waist but a dripping slip clinging to her thighs. She was reaching behind her head and fumbling with the laces of her corset, muttering to herself. Elizaveta turned around when she heard him come into the room and sighed, apparently not minding that she was half naked; but then, why should she? They were only friends, after all, no reason to expect this to be uncomfortable, after all, and if she was a boy…

Gilbert cleared his throat. He was suddenly acutely aware of the fact that his shirt was wide open and had a fleeting thought that this was the second time this night he'd gotten himself into a situation like this. "I brought you some clothes."

Elizaveta nodded. "Thanks." She lowered her arms, looking defeated, and suddenly a fresh wave of tears splashed down her face.

"Liz! Are you alright?" Gilbert asked, dropping the clothes on the couch and running to grab hold of her hands.

"Oh—" She sighed, sniffling, and shook her head. "I'm fine, honestly, it's just— I've been trying for hours and no matter what I do I can't get this corset off!" And she sobbed again, before looking up at him imploringly. "Will you please help me? Just undo the laces, I can't reach them by myself. Well, I suppose you know how to do it. Please?" She was actually pleading him, he couldn't just refuse point-blank because he couldn't act like she was just a friend for the same amount of time it took him to lace up his boots. He had to help her.

"Okay… Just turn around, don't worry, I'm sure I'll have you out of this in n-no time, no problem, yeah, there we go." He swept her ponytail over her shoulder after she turned around and started working the laces. She'd tugged them so tight the edges were meeting. _Isn't that unhealthy? How can she even breathe in this thing, let alone run a mile and a half? Women are fucking badass._ "Um… Wow, this is really tight." It didn't help that his fingers were trembling and he was too nervous to actually make any physical contact.

"No shit, I've been wearing it all day."

"How do you even get these fucking things on by yourself?" He asked, letting out another string of curses and yanking the laces even tighter in frustration.

" _OW!_ Are you trying to fucking kill me?!" She demanded, looking back behind her.

"Shit, sorry, I think I'm fucking it up even worse. Wait! Okay, I've almost got it now. Seriously, how do you get these things on by yourself?" He repeated as he unlaced, careful now not to pull even tighter.

"We don't, usually someone else helps you put them on. I never had any sisters or a mom, never wore them until I got married. Never should have started. Roderich always helps me in and out of it. Fucking stupid, I should have learned to do it myself." She huffed. "Almost done back there?"

"Yeah, yeah, almost finished, gimme a sec." They lasped into silence for a few more seconds while he undid the last few rows of laces, and suddenly—was it his imagination?—the air started to thicken with tension. He had a sudden urge to fill the silence as he finished. "There." He untied the final row of the laces and stood back.

"Thanks," Elizaveta muttered, undoing the clasps in the front. The corset fell in two pieces to the ground, and the wet slip slid down now that the corset wasn't holding it up anymore. She turned around, seeming slightly dazed and making no effort to cover herself. She just stared at Gilbert like she'd never seen him before. He stared back, a flush creeping into his face, neither one of them moving, as if they've been suspended in time. And suddenly they'd been completely swept away into a world of memory. And they stayed that way, losing all control, just staring at each other, each one silently daring the other to stop this, to say something, anything.

But neither one of them did.


	18. Chapter 18: Has Come (to This)

_**AN:**_ _omg, hey guys! It's been a while, hasn't it?! I missed this story. It's been a bonkerballs few months. Glad to be back 3_

 _Oh, I almost forgot! So you know how sometimes fanfiction authors offer prizes to people who write a certain # review? I'm doing that! So whoever writes the... ahem._ _ **69th**_ _review will win a 5k one-shot for a fandom/pairing/prompt of their choosing... written by me... I don't know if anyone will actually want that but, yeah, that could happen. So gimme those reviews!_ _Aight I'll shut up now, ilyasm bye_

 **Chapter Eighteen: Has Come to** _ **This**_

Meanwhile, since Gilbert left, life for the Axis had pretty much resumed the way it had been before. Everything was exactly the same. Except for one thing. One thing, and two people.

Kiku had remained as quiet as he could, mulling over the best course of action. It was surprisingly easy for him to go about almost completely undetected; the constant drama Gilbert seemed to attract was more than sufficient to distract the others from his frequent little liaisons.

He knew he couldn't keep doing this forever. He knew he was only setting himself up for trouble. Every day he tried to stop, tried so hard to end it, but then he met the gentle stranger nation's blue eyes and he couldn't look away.

Even now he didn't know his nation name. Yes, even now, after all they'd come to understand about each other…

Their first meeting had been a tense one. For days, Kiku had noticed someone hovering around the house, never speaking, always just listening, gazing on with silent interest and never interrupting. No one else ever seemed to notice him, and for ages Kiku couldn't bring himself to ask about him, terrified that he was actually going crazy. It was too unnerving, the way he just stood in the corner of the room, and nobody else seemed to be able to see him.

Everywhere he walked, the silent figure followed him, that watery blue gaze boring into him until Kiku could take it no longer.

"Who are you?" He demanded of the stranger. "And why am I the only one who can see you?" The stranger was quiet for a long time. When he finally did speak, his voice was so quiet Kiku had to take several steps closer to hear him at all.

"I'm Matthew." _Is he human or nation? I cannot tell._

"Do you have another name?" Kiku asked tentatively.

"I don't think you'd know it." _He sounds American… But not like America._

"Not without you telling me."

"I shouldn't."  
"Why? Are you a spy?"

"No. Well, I mean, not by profession."

"I don't understand."

"I'm sorry, I don't think I can give you any clarification. I shouldn't be speaking to you at all."

"So you are a spy! Who are you spying for? The Allies? Which one?" Kiku spat furiously, stepping closer to Matthew and realizing for the first time how much taller he was, even though he seemed to take up much less space.

"I don't mean to bother any of you!" Matthew stammered, backing away until he was pressed against the wall. "I just—I have to do things, I'm sorry. I'm sorry!"

"What are you sorry for?" He approached him suspiciously.

"I don't know."

"You don't know?"

"Sorry…"

"Excuse me, I am very confused."

"I'm sorry."

"Excuse me, is that an idiomatic expression? I don't understand."

"Sorry. I mean, hi. I'm Matthew and I make horrible first impressions." Matthew muttered. "Sorry. Hi, I'm Matthew."

"Honda Kiku." Kiku bowed his head uncertainly in greeting, then stepped back to give Matthew a little bit more space.

"Nice to meet you, Honda Kiku. Haha, that rhymes. No, that's stupid, I'm sorry, I should go." Matthew shook his head and moved to exit, but Kiku stopped him. He reached out and just barely grazed Matthew's wrist. He faltered and turned back to look at him, his blue eyes blinking uncertainly. Neither of them spoke, but they were both obviously hyper-aware of the other's touch. Strange as it was for Kiku to think this way, he couldn't shake the urge to describe the feeling. It felt utterly… electric.

Someone had to break the silence. Matthew had talked last. That meant it was Kiku's turn, didn't it? "Don't go. Yet," he added. "Let's at least talk for a little while."

"Oh." Matthew smiled nervously. "Okay."

Neither one of them moved for a while. And then they started talking.

And then they became friends.

The mysterious electricity hadn't faded, though. In fact, Kiku swore it got stronger every time they touched. Which was getting to be fairly often now. After that first day, a few weeks ago now, they'd started meeting up to talk more often.

Kiku never learned any more about why Matthew was there or where he came from. Somehow, every time after that first day, he'd conveniently forgotten to ask every time they were together.

Well, maybe he didn't forget by accident. But somehow he couldn't bear to bring it up. He sensed there was something amiss, and he just couldn't bring himself to end their friendship already. So they talked about other things. Matthew's childhood, his bossy older brother and overbearing father, or maybe how he developed his fascination with winter sports. Or sometimes Kiku would talk, more than he talked with anyone else, and he would talk about everything from his excessive interest in art to his favorite places back home. He felt so at ease, he caught himself saying things he probably shouldn't have said, but he couldn't seem to stop himself.

He talked about his life in isolation, and how even after he'd decided to join the world it hadn't really stopped, only now it wasn't by choice. Having never been with people outside of his home, he wasn't sure how to behave, or how to make his opinions count for anything. And especially with his friends in the Axis, who he always felt were shutting him out somehow, even if they didn't mean it.

Matthew was a good listener. Kiku hadn't met many good listeners.

It wasn't long before he realized that his feelings ran much deeper than friendship, despite the short time they'd known each other. He was worried. Not so much about judgment, he realized quickly that his friends were in deep denial of their own feelings and were obviously too preoccupied to care, but just the sheer idea of risking the realest connection he'd ever had with another person because of his feelings was what terrified him. Not to mention the fact that, however much he felt like he had learned about Matthew, there were still a lot of basic things he didn't know, and that was worrisome. He always had it at the back of his mind, always that trace of uncertainty and concern that he didn't really know as much about Matthew as Matthew maybe knew about him. But when he was actually with him, well, it was hard to explain, but all that was almost magically driven from his mind.

He had to do something. But he wanted to get some advice first. He had no idea who to go to. Ludwig was an automatic no, and Feliciano would have been too embarrassing. Gilbert, maybe, but even though he didn't know him that well it was clear that he was an enormous gossip. But then the answer came, clear as day. Gilbert's friend, the one he apparently used to date and obviously still had feelings for, and spoke with on the phone for hours every day, what was her name? Elizaveta? Everyone seemed to revere her somehow, and he'd heard Feliciano say she was like an older sister to him.

So he waited until an opportunity presented itself, and he picked up the phone's extension when he knew Gilbert and Elizaveta were talking. He didn't mean to eavesdrop, he just wanted to speak with her. He especially didn't mean to tune in right in the middle of a massive argument, but he couldn't just back out when they already knew he was there. He thought he covered his tracks well enough, but it was still pretty embarrassing. Nonetheless, Elizaveta's (admittedly somewhat distracted) endorsement was enough to give him the courage he needed.

Never had he stammered so much in one conversation, but finally he got his point across. His hands were shaking the whole time, as he stumbled heroically through the speech he'd prepared, and when he finished he could scarcely breathe as he waited for Matthew's reply, sure he'd ruined their friendship forever.

But when Matthew said he felt the same way, well…

So began the first relationship either of them had ever had. And honestly, as he reclined on his bed the next day and watched the early morning sunlight filter through the window, Kiku had never been happier.

"Listen, Kiku, I have to go." Matthew said, standing up and picking up his jacket from where it had been discarded on a chair earlier.

"Already?"

"Yeah, I'm sorry, my brother's expecting me."

"Okay." He tried not to sound sulky, but he didn't like being alone anymore. "Do you have any idea when you'll be back?"

"I'm not sure. I'll call you?"

"Okay." Kiku sighed, then smiled as Matthew leaned over and kissed him. "You'd better hurry. My colleagues will awaken soon."

"I'll be careful not to wake them up. Um, well, I'll s-see you later." Matthew blushed and shrugged on his jacket.

"Have a good day," Kiku wished as he opened the door just enough to slip through, careful not to make any unnecessary noise. Matthew flashed him one last shy smile and shut the door behind him, and Kiku sighed again and fell back on the bed in satisfied bliss. He hadn't realized how rarely he smiled before, but as the sun rose and cast a gleaming golden aura through the room he suddenly felt like everything was different.

Not everything, though.

A sharp knock on his door startled him out of his happy daze. "Japan!" He felt a slight prickle of irritation.

"Excuse me? Germany? Is that you?"

"May I come in?"

"Uhh… Not at the present moment, please. Give me one second." He didn't especially want to be found before he had a chance to get dressed. Japan hastily stood up and picked up his clothes from the previous day, then shoved them carelessly into his wardrobe and grabbed a set of clean clothes to change into. A minute later he emerged and opened the door to greet Germany, who looked like he'd already been up for several hours.

"Good morning, Japan." He greeted curtly.

"Good morning, Germany-kun. Do you need something?"

"Actually, I had something I wanted to discuss with you. Is Italy awake yet?"

"I don't know. I don't think so, it's much too early for him."

"Good. I don't want him overhearing this and getting worried, you know how he does." Japan tilted his head noncommittally, his mind still mostly elsewhere. "Anyway, well, it's kind of a delicate issue."

"Would you care to explain, so I'll know if I might be able to offer my assistance?"

"Yes." They started walking down the hall in the direction of the kitchen. "Alright, so, I'm not sure if you've noticed, but I have been taking a lot of meetings lately."

"I did notice a little. A lot of phone calls. Is something wrong?"

"It's the Allies. They've been calling me and saying a lot of strange things. I get the feeling they're just trying to keep me talking, but I have no idea why. I tried ignoring them, but they insisted on scheduling a meeting for later today, but I don't know what they're up to."

"Are you going?"

"Yes, but… Just due to the nature of some of the things they've been saying, I would just feel more comfortable if someone else went with me to mediate and help with negotiations. The meeting is in two hours." He gave Japan a meaningful look.

"Are you asking me?"

"Do you mind?"

"No, I'll come, but this is very concerning. Are you sure you don't want to tell Italy-kun?"

"A lot of the phone calls were _about_ Italy. It's hard to explain, but I don't think he'd be safe coming with us and I don't want him to worry."

 _If you don't tell him and he finds out on his own, won't that worry him too?_ Japan thought, but he said nothing. He just kept walking.


	19. Chapter 19: I Believed

_**AN:**_ _hey there ;) how bout some tasty reviews? lol jk do what you want but i love all of my reviewers with a special kind of passion. my heart overfloweth. Speaking of which, reviewer Wang1, special shoutout to you fam, love your user too omg, ilysm thank you for that, and all you regular reviewers, esp pasta and firelords lollll ily guys (if u cannot tell im sleepy, i'll shut up soon i promise) also something big is coming soon okay byeeeeeeeee_

 **Chapter 19: I Believed**

"Why are we doing this outside?" Japan muttered as they walked briskly out to the edges of the property, near the border of the forest. "I can't shake a slightly ominous feeling. It's like they're deliberately cutting us off from the house. Are you sure this is a peaceful meeting?"

"I know it's unsettling, that's why I wanted you here, in case this turns out to be more than a nuisance. I'm sure we'll be able to handle ourselves," Germany said, mostly to convince himself. He didn't think of himself as anxious, but the past few days had been odd. He hadn't had much time to think about it with his brother there, but once he left and things got a lot quieter, he had been thinking a lot and realized that something was definitely off about those phone yet, he thought his friends' paranoia might be rubbing off on him; the last few days, he couldn't shake the feeling that sometimes, when he was more than sure he was completely alone, there was somebody else in the room. _Watching_ him. Even thinking it was ludicrous. Maybe he should call his brother for reassurance. Yes, he would call him. Later.

"HEY! Thanks for showing up! And you brought a friend, okay!" Germany flinched in surprise at the loud greeting. The voice belonged to a well-built young nation wearing a leather bomber jacket and steel-rimmed glasses.

Japan looked at him uncertainly. "Matthew?" _Matthew?_

"Matthew? My super-shy kid brother? No way!"

"Oh, excuse me, America! I'm sorry. I don't even—I've never been—I don't know why I did that. Sorry."

"No worries! I'll have to tell him someone finally confused me for him when I get home! He's always cranky when people call him America! I can't believe someone finally called me Canada!" He laughed raucously.

"Canada?!" Japan said, looking totally blindsided. Germany was confused too. Since when did Japan know Canada? Oh well, it couldn't matter much. They probably met at a meeting or something. Also, who was Canada? Whatever. Germany had other things on his mind.

"Greetings, America. Are you here alone? I thought Britain was accompanying you."

"I am!" America's associate stumbled after the rambunctious young nation and stopped next to him, catching his breath. "Slow down!"

"Need me to carry you, gramps?" America half-said, half-shouted, throwing an arm roughly around Britain's shoulder.

"No, thanks. Can't we just have a normal conversation for once in our bloody lives?"

America ignored him. "So, Ludwig, how are things at the old homestead?"

"What?" Germany replied bluntly.

"The homestead, you know, the old secret lair where all your weapons are."

"I don't think that's what that means, or that it's any of your business."

"Whatever, dude. How's the wife?"

"Whom?"

"Whom the fuck do you think? Hungary, right?"

"You fucking idiot, he's not bloody Austria." Britain rolled his eyes and sighed.

"Austria? I thought he was with New Zealand!" America blinked innocently.

"Oh my fucking—Don't even pretend to not know the difference between Austria and Australia. People never know if you're joking."

"What?" America grinned. His teeth were as white as the pages of his nation's history books.

"Can we please just get to the meeting? I'm sure we all have schedules to keep." Germany said pointedly.

"Right, duh." America agreed. "I've got to be heroic in twenty minutes across town somewhere nobody asked so I'll keep this short. Ludwig, we have a proposal for you. _I_ have a proposal for you." America smiled warmly, putting a hand on Germany's shoulder. Germany flinched and subconsciously stepped back.

"It's _my_ proposal!" Britain snapped.

"What _is_ it?" Japan broke in for the first time, momentarily halting the two Allies' raucous squabbling.

"Right, let me cut to the chase." Britain flashed them both a smile. "This is a little awkward with Japan here, but, oh well… Business goes on!"

"What do you want?" Germany asked coldly.

Britain cleared his throat and looked right at him. "To put it simply, we want you."

"What?"

"Look, I know it's annoying for you to go chasing after Italy every time we capture him."

"A moderate inconvenience, but I'd rather do that than leave him with you people."

"It's a waste of both of our time and we always end up right where we started."

"So we want to shake things up a little." America broke in.

"Yes." Britain agreed. "We had an idea. Simply put, we want you join us. Give up the being a part of the Axis, and come work for the Allies." He cleared his throat. "Again, this is awkward with Japan here. I was rather expecting you to come on your own. Oh well, can't be helped now. Anyway, what do you say?"

Germany needed to take a moment to process what he'd heard. "Are you out of your mind? Why the hell would I do that?"

"Well, listen to our other options," Britain said soothingly, "And then decide. This dispute has been in a stalemate too long. Frankly, we're bored. Either you come and join us, effectively dissolving the Axis, because how can one nation fight against six?"

"There would still be two of us." Japan protested mildly. "Hardly even, but not one against six."

America shrugged. "One and a half, whatever. Face it, Germany is the glue holding you together."

"With all due respect, what could you possibly know about the situation?" said Japan.

"You know nothing about how we behave in our own…" He suddenly trailed off. Closed his eyes. Exhaled slowly. Opened his eyes. "I see." He didn't move. "I see," he repeated, then suddenly stood up much straighter. "But that doesn't change the fact that the Axis is not going to just break up. Is it?" The last part was directed at Germany.

"Of course not. You can't seriously think I'd just give up everything we've built here because you say so. The whole pretext of this meeting is ridiculous." Germany pushed on with the conversation.  
"Well, just hear us out." America suggested. "There's a reason you should take our offer."

"What legitimate reason could you have?"

"Well, if you don't take our proposal, we leave you with only one other option, which we alluded to in our conversation on the telephone the other day." Britain smiled pleasantly, and Germany instinctively stepped back again.

"What do you mean?"

"Simply put, if you don't join us, we're going to kidnap Italy again. And this time we won't just tie him up!" Alfred smiled cheerfully and patted Ludwig on the back. He flinched and recoiled, then glared at them both.

"That's sick!"

"Woah! I just meant we were going to make him work for us. Still, I know for a fact, that's… Not what you want, is it?" Alfred smiled understandingly. Ludwig stared at him, bemused.

"What the hell are you talking about? Alright, listen, I have to go. This meeting is over. And, _no._ End of discussion." A distant sound suddenly caught his attention. Japan had heard it too. They looked at each other, momentarily transfixed in horror. Neither of them could say a word. Then Italy arrived.

* * *

"Germany!" Italy almost sang as he sprinted up the hill where Germany and Japan had decided to strategize. He came within sight and was about to leap to his friend's side and then suddenly stopped short in shock, nearly falling flat on his face.

Germany and Japan weren't alone, as he had expected. America and Britain were also there. In spite of his noisy arrival, they hadn't noticed him. The four seemed to be deep in conversation, and Italy warily decided to creep closer and try to figure out what they were talking about.

"Look, Ludwig," America was saying in his flat accent. "I'm gonna make this as simple as possible. You can take the offer. We _need_ you. _America_ needs you. And if you take it, everything works out just fine."

"Excuse me," Britain interrupted. "Are you talking in the third person about your own country?"

" _I'm_ the hero, duh."

"Fucking twit—" Arthur snapped, looking ready to strangle Alfred, which wasn't unusual.

"Enough." Germany barked. "Finish now so we can go." Alfred sighed.

"Okay, fine. Take the offer and we'll be so much stronger together." Italy gasped as a possibility occurred to him. An impossible possibility. Impossible. Or at least improbable. Unlikely. Or maybe not that unlikely. He'd been acting weird lately. But would he really leave? He had promised he wouldn't, but they still had so much more to offer him than Italy had. Why should he stay? But if Germany left, the Axis would disintegrate. More than that, Italy would have no one. Japan would never feel the same to him as Germany.

Just then, Britain noticed Italy lurking and grabbed Alfred by the shoulder. "Huh?" Alfred looked up, annoyed, then he noticed Italy too. "Oh. Um… How long has he been standing there?"

"Shut up, just act natural." Arthur hissed. Italy's stomach twisted with nerves and he sidled as close as he could to Germany. He had a bad habit of relying heavily on intuition, and right now he had a really, really bad feeling. But he hoped more than anything that his feeling was wrong. He wanted to drop to his knees and beg him not to leave, to tell him he would never leave, but he couldn't do it in front of Britain and America.

"Hello!" Italy chirped weakly. "So we're having a meeting I see, what is it about?"

"We don't mean to concern you." Japan spoke for the first time.

"Why not? I'm a part of the Axis too!" Italy tried to sound cheerful and casual, but it wasn't coming out right.

"Italy, it's not your problem. It's a situation I need to sort out myself." Germany said coolly.

"But… Japan's here! Shouldn't I be here too?" Italy was at the point of holding back tears.

"I brought Japan along because I thought he could help me negotiate. I didn't tell you because it's not important. Don't worry." Italy searched his face for signs of discomfort, but he had never been good enough at reading people close to him. All he saw was the person he adored the most. Instead he looked at Japan, who blinked noncommittally and turned his gaze to the ground.

"O-okay…" Italy mumbled. He wasn't convinced, but his gut wrenched at the idea of pursuing the subject.

"Well, I guess that about wraps that up." America said, making to walk away. As he passed Germany he grabbed him by the shoulder and leaned in close to him. Germany visibly flinched. Italy barely caught the next words Alfred whispered in Ludwig's ear, giving a meaningful nod to Italy as he did so. " _Think about it."_

 _Think about it? Why did he look at me when he said that?_ But Italy had a sickly feeling that he knew exactly what Alfred had meant. He tried to hide his spasm of nerves but wanted to whimper at the idea of his worst fears suddenly seeming so very, very close.


	20. Chapter 20: One Step (Closer?)

_**AN:** ey guys ;0  
_

 **Chapter Twenty: One Step Closer**

Feliciano didn't sleep all night. That hadn't happened to him for a long time. Instead of falling asleep the minute his head hit his pillow, he tossed and turned all night. His deepest anxieties were running rampant. He knew he was the weakest link of the Axis. No one said it outright, but he knew. He knew Ludwig would probably get more work done without him around. Maybe he cooked and cleaned and had good ideas some of the time, but he wasn't exactly the kind of ally he knew Ludwig wanted. He wasn't like Japan. And experiences past always reminded him that he couldn't trust Ludwig's promises of faithfulness. But his heart still wasn't sure. He couldn't really believe, deep down, that Ludwig would actually leave him, but he could never be sure.

 _Would he leave me? Would he leave me? Would he really forget everything we have and join the Allies? Is he just still with me because he thinks I'm funny? Does he really care about me? What does this mean for us? Is he really considering it? He's talked about his dreams of his world, but would he go so far for it as to join the Allies to achieve them? What if he really leaves? What will I do?_ He stared at the ceiling, thinking hard, praying for answers and finding none. His fears were too great; he had too much to lose. But what could he do?

 _I can't let it happen._ Italy suddenly clenched his fists around his blanket. _I can't let him leave me!_ He sat up in determination. He would do whatever it took to make him stay. _I'll make myself stronger. I'll even make an effort when I train, if that's what it takes!_ He sat up with a new resolve. _I'll prove to him that I can be strong!_ This thought was so inspiring that he actually stood up, did almost four push-ups, and put his uniform. Then he sat back on the bed to relax for a few minutes before the day started, smiling assuredly. This had to work. It just had to.

With this resolve, he sighed in relief and fell backwards onto his pillow, snoring as the first rays of sun peeked through his window.

* * *

"Italy!" Italy jolted awake at the sound of Germany's voice and jumped out of bed to face him.

"Good morning, Germany! Lovely to see you! What brings you here at this time?" His voice trembled only slightly and he silently reminded himself not to blabber. Germany looked taken aback that he had gotten up so quickly and even more confused when Feliciano saluted him.

"Um… Good morning to you too… It actually _is_ still morning. Are you okay?" He looked Italy over. "Did you sleep in your uniform?"

"Of course I'm okay! Just want to be prepared! Ready to start training, right? That is what we are doing?"

"Well, yes." Ludwig cleared his throat and quickly regained his composure and led Italy out to the training yard and explained the activities of the day. Japan was already waiting when they got to the track, and Germany explained that they would be running 25 laps to start off the day. Italy groaned, then quickly remembered his resolution and began doing a series of stretches. _He doesn't expect me to do well, but I'll show him I can! I know I can run fast! Even when I'm not in retreat…_

"Okay, on your marks!" Germany barked, taking his own position on the innermost lane. "Come on, the sooner we start, the sooner we'll be done! Go!" He blew his whistle and took off. Kiku ran briskly at his side and Italy was left in their wake before the end of the first lap.

"Pick up the pace!" Ludwig snapped as he passed. Feliciano felt panic engulf him. _He's disappointed!_ He ran faster. He had to prove him wrong, had to make sure he kept up. He gasped at the end of the first lap and increased his pace even more, keeping pace just behind Japan and Germany. _I can't just keep pace! I have to prove I can be better!_

He put on another burst of speed and passed them by the end of the third lap. They were so surprised they almost stopped in their tracks and stared at each other in bafflement. He was going so much faster that he was half a lap ahead of them before the shock wore off. They tried to catch up, but he just kept sprinting forward without showing any sign of tiring for several laps. Ludwig looked over at Kiku, who was starting to sweat.

"How… Yesterday he was laps behind us…" Japan panted.

"I know!" Ludwig huffed in a mixture of annoyance and awed admiration. "He's finished, but he's still running!"

Italy's original adrenaline had faded after his first sprinted lap. Now he was mostly fueled on desperation and the knowledge that he was far ahead of the others, and his muscles were starting to feel it. His legs and back ached and the world blurred around him. His lungs were heaving and he felt faint, but he kept running. He didn't think he could stop if he tried.

"Hey! Stop! When did you learn to run so fast?!" Feliciano gasped as Germany grabbed his arm and his residual momentum yanked him to the ground. "You finished already! We only just caught up to you!"

"Oh." Italy lay sprawled on the ground and tried to pretend he wasn't even winded, even though he was fighting not to curl up and wheeze. His vision was blurred, his heart sending blood was flooding his limbs and his throat felt scratchy. "Sorry. I guess I was in the zone, or whatever it is, haha." He tried to smile but ended up coughing and felt his lungs shudder to take in more burning oxygen. Ludwig looked utterly bemused.

"Aren't you tired? You usually take twice as long to finish if you do at all!"

"Oh, um, nope, not really." He shrugged and tried to cover his panting with laughter. He got up and staggered to the water station. "What's next?" His legs were starting to shake, but he forced himself to stay standing strong. _He's surprised. Maybe he's impressed. I want to collapse, but maybe he'll rethink leaving if I keep this up. I just have to keep acting like I'm as tough as he is and then I will be. Fake it 'til you make it, right? ...Right?_ Italy poured water over his head and then gulped down a few more cups.

* * *

Feliciano lay in his bed and whimpered as he felt the efforts of the day catch up to him. In addition to the laps, he had also done several hours of specialized strength training, which would normally have him aching, so he almost always found an excuse to avoid it or managed to get by without really trying. Since today he had been putting in as much effort as possible, he thought his limbs were going to disintegrate. But even though he'd never been in this much pain in his life, even though he knew with a slightly sickening certainty that he would have to do it all over again tomorrow, it was worth it. Anything to make sure Ludwig would stay.

A sudden murmur from his window dragged Italy from his painful reverie. At first he tried to ignore it, but his ears picked up a few stray English words and he jolted awake. In a daze he staggered over and opened it wider, trying to listen to find out where the sound was coming from. Then he realized it was from Germany's balcony, just next to his room. When he realized who the voices belonged to, he felt a cold clenching pang in his stomach.

 _Britain! Why is he still talking to Ludwig? Shouldn't their meeting be over by now? What does he still want?_ He struggled out of his comfortable bed and forced his aching body to the window. He had to hear what they were saying. They'd already been talking awhile. _If Britain's still talking then that must mean he's having a hard time persuading him!_ The hopeful thought made his heart flutter in delight in spite of his weary muscles. But his spirits descended as quickly as they had lifted when he strained his ears and heard what they were talking about.

"—interfering with your dream, don't deny it. You know you have a much better chance of getting what you want with us." Britain's voice was silky and Italy bit his lip in apprehension, not daring to breathe until he heard Germany's response. Maybe Germany's feelings did run deep enough for him to want to stay at the cost of his success.

" _Nein_. Italy's purposes may not seem obvious, but he is a valuable member of the Axis. And the Axis is strongest with all of us united."

"Oh, but Ludwig, how far does that strength really go? Are you really prepared to fight so hard for your vision?"

"I'll take my chances against anything you and America try with me." Ludwig's voice was even but unmistakably angry. Britain chuckled.

"I'm afraid those aren't really your chances to take. If we can't come to some agreement I'm afraid we'll have to resort to methods much more uncivilized, though also proven rather more effective. I think you will agree when I say that we do have our assets."

Ludwig didn't comment, but Feliciano could almost sense him grumbling under his breath before he spoke again. "I feel I have made my stances on the matter quite clear. Therefore, I must insist that you leave before I call out for someone who will not take kindly to spies to dispose of you."

"As you wish." Feliciano ducked back inside as he heard Britain scrambling back down the balcony, which was apparently how he had reached Germany's veranda. He had forgotten he was holding his breath, and let it out in a shaky sigh before he slumped against the wall facing his bed. Germany had told him to go away, that had to be a good sign, right? He suddenly felt too tired to move anymore. The day had worn him out to the point where he didn't want to struggle back into his bed.

Feliciano curled up on the floor, unable to keep himself from shaking. A few tears spilled down his face and he muffled a sob, trying to figure out what to do next. He couldn't imagine being without Ludwig. Regardless of what the other felt, Feliciano knew Ludwig was his best friend. And, all things being equal, he knew friendship wasn't all it was either.

Who was he kidding? It had always been love. Romantic or platonic, he knew it was there. And he knew which of the two it was. And he couldn't deny it, no matter how much he might have wanted to.

But if he was in love, what good would that do him? It would only hurt even more when Ludwig left him, and he knew it was coming. He could feel it on the horizon, like a sunrise he had watched already. He knew the outcome, the details, every bloody red-and-blue color set to streak across the sky, and there was nothing he could do to stop or change any of it. This was his pattern, he was destined for it. It had all happened once before. Why wouldn't it happen again? What could he do to alter repeated history?

He shuddered, hunched over and still trying to stifle his sobs, desperate not to let anyone else in the house hear him. This was all so familiar, his tears, his sobs, his shaking. His powerlessness as the massive walls of somebody else's mansion loomed above him on all sides, threatening to fall away at any moment like he always knew they would. The only difference was that back then he still had someone to cling to, someone who would hold him close and wrap him in her old shawls and give him a shred of hope that somebody still loved him. Somebody to sit next to him and pat him on the back and just let him shake and moan and cry, then leave for just a moment and come back with a contraband _pálinka_ from the kitchen to share with him while they commiserated.

He suddenly felt an almost overwhelming desire to call her. His now-estranged half-sister, almost. Hungary. Sure, it had been a while, but Prussia still talked to her and she seemed to have a perfect memory, but even so he felt awkward just calling her out of the blue. Especially so late at night. Still, was that worse than just sitting here, in the dark, crying about his future? She was often up late. Italy had heard her on the phone with Prussia at this hour before. Maybe he could call.

His hands were dialing before he even realized he had made the decision, but after a moment he'd already found his copy of the address book and put the call through. Less than half a ring later, Austria answered.

"Who the hell is calling? Gilbert? What the hell just happened?!" His tone was so harsh and jarring it sent Feliciano sobbing again.

"I'm sorry!" He cried, not even sure why he was apologizing. "I-I-I didn't m-mean it! Wh-why are you y-yelling at m-me?"

"Wait, who is this?"

"I-Italy? F-Fel-l-liciano V-Vargas? A-are you R-R-Roderich E-Edelstein?" He had to get his stuttering under control; he could barely understand himself.

"Italy? Who? What? I cannot understand you! Please speak more clearly." Definitely Austria. Italy took a deep breath, counted to ten, then exhaled and tried to speak.

"Hello," he began, trying his best to keep his voice from trembling. He had a flashback to his childhood; that stutter he used to have. Still had sometimes, apparently. Lots of things never change much. "Roderich? Roderich Edelstein?"

"Yes, good evening. It's rather late to call, that's rude, you know."

"I—I know. Sorry. Austria? It's Italy. Is Miss Hungary still awake? Could I speak to her?"

"Hungary is missing." He wasn't sure he'd heard him correctly.

"I—What?"

"She's missing. She's left. I don't know where she is."

"What?" He still wasn't understanding. "Has she been kidnapped or something?"

"I don't know! I don't think so. She left me a note."

"Oh. Well, what does it say? If you don't mind me asking." Admittedly this was a welcome distraction from an existentialist panic attack, but now he was worried about his friend too. "Is she alright?"

"She said she was staying with a friend, but I don't know whom or where, or when she will be back. She's so irresponsible, I can't believe we got ourselves into this situation."

"Wait, what situation, exactly? I don't understand."

"Ludwig didn't tell you?"

"He doesn't—he doesn't really tell me anything… I mean anything personal like that. Why? What's going on?"

"If he hasn't told you, I'm not going to tell you. I'm sorry, this isn't a good time."

"Oh. Okay, sorry," Italy said, crushed and shattered by a fresh wave of worry. "Do you want to talk to Germany?"

"I need to have a word with Prussia. Good night, Italy."

"O-okay. Good night." And he hung up the phone, although he was now less assured of himself and his position in this whole arrangement than ever. _What's going on? What's going on what's going on what's going on?_

His first impulse was to sprint out into the hall, then burst through the door to Germany's room and tell him about the strange conversation, begging for an explanation. Why wouldn't Austria tell him? Why was he angry with Prussia? What on earth had happened to Hungary? Why wasn't anyone telling him anything? He deserved answers, didn't he? Didn't he? But he had to control himself! This was exactly the kind of panicky overreaction that was getting him into trouble, wasn't it? He couldn't rush in. He had to think of something else to do.

His second impulse was to call Romano.

The phone rang thirteen times. "Hello?" Lovino muttered sleepily, and there was the sound of something being knocked over and clattering to the floor. "Shit, wait a sec." A few more clattering sounds, a strange other person's voice. "Shut up! Sorry about that, who is this?"

"Veneziano? Your beloved brother? Are you okay?" It was pretty early to tell, but something definitely seemed off. Lovino wasn't being his usual self. Feliciano had obviously woken him, if the sleepy tone and the clattering were any indication, and normally his brother would be biting his head off, but right now he seemed distracted.

"Huh? Oh, yeah! Yeah, I'm fine, how about you? Why are you calling so late, is something wrong? Shh!" There was some kind of slapping, shuffling sound, and then something almost like a laugh. Feliciano suddenly realized what was going on.

"Lovi, have you got someone there with you?"

"What? No! How could you even suggest a thing like that?"

"Liar!" Chimed in the other voice.

"Shut up!" Lovino hissed.

"Lovino?" Feliciano couldn't help cracking a smile, even though his face was still wet with tears. Another welcome distraction. "Who's that?"

"Nobody!"

"Rude." Muttered the other voice.

"Shut up! Look, Feli, it's embarrassing, okay? I don't wanna talk about it, c'mon."

"Embarrassing? Really?" Said the other voice, and suddenly Feliciano recognized it.

"Antonio?"

"No comment! This was a mistake."

"Lovi! That's not very nice." Feliciano admonished.

"I don't give a shit, and besides, we're just talking."

"That's what they're calling it these days? It's been awhile."

"Shut the fuck up, it's just a conversation. Don't read too much into it." Feliciano got the feeling the last sentence was directed at the other person in the room as well.

"Whatever you say." He suddenly remembered why he was calling in the first place. "Lovi, I'm sorry I called you at a bad time, but I'm actually really having a problem right now and I didn't know who else to turn to. Can you please tell me what to do?"

" _Don't_ go out with the creepy blond potato bastard you live with."

"Romano—"

"I'm serious, okay? Look, I don't wanna go into the whole thing, but he gives me a really bad vibe and so does his brother. There's a lot of weird stuff going on and I don't want you to get caught up in it."

"That's what everybody's been telling me, but I am caught up in it!" His voice broke. "I live here! And I hear things, okay? I know some of the things that are going on. Not everything, probably, because nobody fucking tells me anything, but I know enough to know there's a lot that I don't know, and that's a lot less than I want to know, you know?" The last part was partially submerged in sobs.

"Feli? What the fuck happened?" Lovi asked, sounding suddenly alarmed.

"I think Ludwig's planning to leave me! And if he leaves, so will my other friend and I can't take care of myself, Lovi! I'm scared!" He cried, the full force of his fear almost sending him back on his heels. More than anything, he wanted his brother to deny it, to just put aside his mysterious prejudice for a second and reassure him. He needed that. "Please tell me what to do."

"Of fucking course he's planning to leave you!" Lovino exploded. "He's a slimy potato bastard like his brother and I knew it the moment I saw him." In spite of his tears, Feliciano felt a pang of indignation.

"Hey! Don't talk about him like that." He sniffled and shivered.

"I'm just saying what I think, okay? He's a bastard who will bail at the first sign of trouble. Just like that other boy you gave your heart to, remember? They never change, Feli. You've got to look out for yourself."

"Hey! I get you're just trying to be a good brother, but you don't have to be hurtful!" he whined.

"I'm not trying! I just want to protect you. Feli, you don't understand. He's exactly like the other bastard you swore you were in love with. They're a whole lot more alike than I think even you realize. And I just see this pattern, okay? Don't let that Holy Roman bastard hurt you again!" Feliciano's breath caught in his throat. He couldn't believe his brother was actually talking about this. They never talked about this, he begged him never to talk about this. He couldn't even bear to think about it for too long when he was by himself. Hearts don't heal quickly.

He couldn't talk anymore just now. "I think you just did that yourself."

"Feli—"

"Goodnight, Romano." He hung up the phone. He couldn't handle this anymore. It was too much. It was all too much.

The tears didn't even surprise him anymore. The sobs barely hurt his chest, the shaking was barely noticeable to him, he was so familiar with the motions of his ancient grief. How long had it been? Decades? But right now it felt as fresh as yesterday. He wouldn't be surprised if it took him a thousand years to love again.

Eventually his sobs subsided. His energy had expired. Dark thoughts melded into the darkness of his room and he fell into a fitful sleep on the floor. As he drifted off his fears didn't leave him. He dreamed of murmurs and plots and tried desperately to conjure some comfort for himself in his isolated anxieties, but all he could think of even in dreams was another who had left him.

He could see those blue eyes so clearly, though he hadn't seen them in nearly a millennium. They had looked so serious once when they had promised to return to him, so beautiful in their intensity.

He had promised, but he hadn't returned… And Italy had once trusted him more than anyone else in the world. If the person he trusted most could still break a promise to him then, why shouldn't the same thing happen again now?


End file.
